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MY ROYAL CLIENTS 



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XAVIER PAOLI. 



[Frontispiece. 



MY ROYAL CLIENTS 



BY 

XAVIER PAOLI 

LATE SPECIAL COMMISSARY ATTACHED TO THE 
PARIS DETECTIVE-SERVICE 



Translated by 
ALEXANDER TEIXEIRA DE MATTOS 



HODDER AND STOUGHTON 

LONDON NEW YORK TORONTO 



33352. 
J 

2. 



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Richard Clay & Sons, Limited, 
brunswick street, stamford street, s.i 
and bungay, suffolk. 



•s A ^ v *\ *\ 



INTRODUCTION 

France has been described by a latter-day 
historian as the holiday paradise of kings. The 
predilection shown by foreign potentates for 
visiting our country lays a heavy and a rather 
delicate responsibility upon its rulers. The 
French government has to take measures to 
ensure the safety of our royal guests and to 
arrange matters in such a way that a guard is 
kept around them which is not only constant and 
watchful, but, at the same time, sufficiently 
discreet to leave them the illusion of absolute 
freedom when they visit France incognito, to- 
gether with the satisfaction of being able to 
throw off all constraint and mingle unreservedly 
with the crowd. 

The fulfilment of this responsibility repre- 
sented my task for five-and-twenty years. My 
duties began as soon as the government was 
advised, through diplomatic channels, of the 
approaching arrival of a sovereign or minor 
member of a royal house. I would receive from 
the Ministry of the Interior an official letter of 
appointment informing me of the place selected 
by our guest for his stay, the name and title 
under which he was travelling, the number and 



INTRODUCTION 

quality of the persons who were to accompany 
him, and the exact time at which the imperial or 
royal train would enter French territory. Fur- 
nished with these particulars, I at once packed 
my trunk and started with my secretaries for the 
watering-place or other health-resort at which 
the illustrious personage was expected. On 
arriving, I communicated with the prefect of the 
department, the mayor of the town, and the chief 
of the local police ; I made minute enquiries con- 
cerning the people who were likely to come into 
contact with the royal visitor, especially the 
servants of the hotel at which he was to stay; I 
examined their papers and subjected them to an 
elaborate interrogatory. I next investigated the 
character of the foreigners living in the neigh- 
bourhood. Lastly, I studied the topography of 
the district. Excursions play a considerable 
part in the holidays of sovereigns. Whether 
they be young or old, whether they come from 
the south or from the north, sight-seeing and 
tripping generally constitute their favourite 
pastime. From the moment of their arrival to 
their departure, they enjoy roaming along the 
roads, in carriages or on foot ; they want to visit 
every show-place and to explore all the country 
round about : a king abroad is something like a 
schoolboy on his holidays and loves to intoxicate 
himself with fresh air, with the sense of space and 
movement. 

I, therefore, considered it very important to 
know all the walks and drives in the country 



INTRODUCTION 

beforehand : in this way I was able to discover 
which of them offered any danger, either 
because of their loneliness and the natural facili- 
ties which they offered for the laying of an 
ambuscade, or by reason of the suspicious indi- 
viduals who were generally to be met there. I 
was also led to make these preliminary re- 
searches by a consideration of a purely aesthetic 
character. I knew how greatly my clients 
appreciated, from the point of view of their 
amusements, the disinterested advice of a person 
already acquainted with the district. I myself, 
on the other hand, always took a subtle pleasure 
in concealing from them, as far as possible, the 
overpowering and often irritating side of my 
mission. Officially the protector of the kings, I 
applied my mind to acting as their Baedeker, a 
Baedeker always open at the page which they 
wished to consult at the moment. 

When my local enquiries were completed and 
the main lines of a discreet supervision fixed, 
when I had nothing more to learn about the 
people and places around, I set out to meet our 
guest, went to await his arrival at the frontier- 
station. I have a very clear recollection of those 
little railway-stations, often tucked away in some 
dull country-side, with that special animation of 
their own and that melancholy aspect, that mys- 
terious and alarming atmosphere, which our 
imagination creates for them. How often have 
I not paced their platforms, peering into the 
distance, beyond the long ribbon of the railway- 



INTRODUCTION 

lines, for the first glimpse of a white lamp and a 
puff of smoke ! 

As soon as the special train pulled up at the 
platform, I was asked to step into the royal 
carriage. The presentation was quickly made, 
the welcome nearly always friendly; and nearly 
always the august traveller would say, with a 
smile : 

"M. Paoli, we have met before." 

I was invited, cordially and simply, to remain 
in the compartment and made to answer a 
number of questions about the country through 
which we were passing and that through which 
we were about to pass. The ice was broken; 
from that moment I entered upon my func- 
tions, which were of a manifold, although not of 
a fixed character. They were not, as I have 
explained elsewhere, limited to keeping a constant 
watch over the royal person; they were summed 
up more especially in this vaguely comprehensive 
formula : " To make our guest's stay in France 
as agreeable as possible, so that he may take 
back with him the best impression of our 
country," a mandate on the political importance 
of which I need hardly insist. 

I began, therefore, by making enquiries among 
the persons forming the royal suite as to the 
sovereign's habits and tastes, not to say his 
peculiarities and fancies. I strove to forestall 
his wishes, to spare him the thousand and one 
little worries which no traveller, not even 
a king, is wholly able to avoid. I also 



INTRODUCTION 

taxed my ingenuity to ward off the intruders 
and petitioners — and their name is legion — who 
always beset the path of sovereign rulers. 

When we reached our destination, the detec- 
tives in my service whom I had had posted at the 
railway-station either told me, with a glance, 
that all was well, or warned me, with a word in 
my ear, of a possible risk. In this way, I have 
often, at the last moment and without ever 
betraying my reason, had occasion respectfully 
but firmly to beg our guest to alter his route, or 
else to order the driver of the carriage to take a 
different road from that which he was supposed 
to follow. 

Once installed at the hotel, I received daily 
telegraphic communications from our special 
provincial commissaries. Sometimes they would 
inform me of the presence in their department 
of a dangerous anarchist, who had had the 
impudence to make some threatening remark 
about our royal visitor; sometimes they would 
announce the sudden disappearance of sus- 
pected strangers; sometimes they advised me of 
the approaching arrival of some ill-intentioned 
individual. I took my measures in accordance 
and handed on the personal descriptions to the 
local police and gendarmery. Every evening, I 
dispatched to the Ministry of the Interior a 
cipher report, in which I set down the smallest 
incidents »of the day. The reports were fre- 
quently sent to the President of the Republic, 
who, by this means, was kept informed of the 

ix 



INTRODUCTION 

impressions received by our guest. I was 
occasionally employed to act as an intermediary 
between the government and the sovereign, in 
connection with some wish which the latter may 
have expressed, or with the settling of some 
question of international etiquette which did not 
necessitate a more formal official interference, 
so that matters were arranged without our having 
to resort to the solemn and ponderous apparatus 
of diplomacy. 

As I have shown, my functions were manifold. 
I frankly admit that the incessant activity which 
they compelled me to display has been amply 
rewarded by the interest of the recollections which 
they left in my mind. For twenty-five years, I 
have lived in the midst of an ever-changing 
portrait-gallery of sovereigns; I have had the 
opportunity of seeing and observing them in 
the intimacy of their private lives. During that 
quarter of a century, I have gathered many im- 
pressions ; and it is these impressions which I now 
propose to record. 

Xavier Paoli. 



CONTENTS 



PAGE 

Introduction v 



CHAPTER I 
The Empress Elizabeth of Austria .... 1 

CHAPTER II 
King Alfonso XIII 43 

CHAPTER III 
The Shah of Persia 77 

CHAPTER IV 

The Tsar Nicholas II. and the Tsaritsa Alexandra 

Feodorovna .115 

CHAPTER V 

The King and Queen of Italy 147 

CHAPTER VI 
George I. King of the Hellenes .... 176 



CONTENTS 



CHAPTER VII 

PAGE 

King Edward VII. 200 



CHAPTER VIII 
Queen Wilhelmina of the Netherlands . . . 234 

CHAPTER IX 
The late King of the Belgians .... 259 

CHAPTER X 
The English Royal Family 287 

CHAPTER XI 

The King of Cambodia 311 

CHAPTER XII 
Queen Victoria 329 



CHAPTER I 

THE EMPRESS ELIZABETH OF AUSTRIA 



My reason for first evoking the infinitely 
fascinating and melancholy image of the Empress 
Elizabeth of Austria is that she presents a special 
type among the royal and imperial majesties 
to whose persons I was attached during their 
different stays in France; and this both on 
account of her life, which was one long romance, 
and of her death, which was a tragedy. 

Hers was a strange, sad soul; and she dis- 
appeared suddenly, as in a dream of terror. She 
hovers round my memory crowned with the halo 
of unhappiness ; and I at once think of her when 
I take up my pen. 

The first time that I saw her was at Geneva ; and 
I cannot recall this detail without emotion, for 
it was at Geneva that she was to die under the 
assassin's dagger. At the end of August 1895, 
the government received notice from the French 
Embassy in Vienna that the Empress was about 
to visit Aix-les-Bains in Savoy; she was to 
travel from her palace of Miramar through 
Italy and Switzerland ; and, as usual, I received 
my formal letter of appointment from the 
b 1 



MY ROYAL CLIENTS 

Ministry of the Interior, instructing me to go 
and meet the Empress at the international 
railway-station at Geneva. The letter was 
couched in the following terms : — 

"FRENCH REPUBLIC 

'■ Ministry of the Interior 

Paris. 29 August, 1895. 

" The Chief Commissioner of the Detective-service 

"To Monsieur Paoli, special commissary attaclied to the 
Criminal Investigation Department. 

" I have the honour to inform you that 
H.I.M. the Empress of Austria, Queen of Hungary, 
travelling in the strictest incognito under the 
name of Countess Hohcncmbs and proceeding to 
Aix-les-Bains. will arrive at the railway-station 
at Geneva on the 10th of September 1S95 at 
S.4j a.m. 

" The imperial suite will be composed of the 
following persons : 

" 1. Countess Irma Sztaray, lady-in-waiting. 

" 2. His Excellency Major-General von Berze- 
viczy. OberstaUmcister (master of the horse). 

" 3. M. Marinaky, Greek reader. 

" 4. Ritter von Feifalick, secretary. 

" 5. Fraulein von Meissel, waiting-woman. 

" 6. Frau von Feifalick, dresser. 

" 7. Five men-servants. 

" The bulk of the imperial luggage, consisting 
of sixty-three trunks, will be in charge of the 
footman Melehior Marz, who has been furnished 



THE EMPRESS ELIZABETH 

with a passport and a special permit by the 
French Embassy in Vienna, and who will precede 
Her Imperial Majesty by a few hours. I hereby 
instruct you to ensure the safety of Her Imperial 
Majesty during her stay in French territory, to 
take all the necessary measures for this purpose, 
and also to see that her incognito is scrupulously 
respected. 

" The Chief Commissioner 

of the Detective-service." 

I confess that, when I stepped into the train, 
I experienced a keen sense of curiosity at the 
thought that I was soon to find myself in the 
presence of the lady who was already surrounded 
by an atmosphere of legend, and who was known 
as " the wandering Empress." I had been told 
numerous more or less veracious stories of her 
restless and romantic life; I had heard that she 
talked little, that she smiled but rarely, and that 
she always seemed to be pursuing a distant 
dream. 

My first impression, however, when I saw 
her alight from her carriage on the Geneva 
platform, was very different from that which I 
was prepared to receive. The Empress, at that 
time, was fifty-eight years of age. She looked 
like a girl; she had the figure of a girl, with a 
girl's lightness and grace of movement. 

Tall and slender, with a touch of stiffness in 
her bearing, she had a rather fresh-coloured face, 
deep, dark and extraordinarily lustrous eyes, and 

B2 a 



MY ROYAL CLIENTS 

a wealth of chestnut hair. I realized later that 
she owed her vivacious colouring to the long walks 
which she was in the constant habit of taking. 
She wore a smartly-cut tailor-made dress, all in 
black, which accentuated the slimness of her 
wasp-like waist. The beauty of her figure was 
a matter of which she was frankly vain : she 
had herself weighed every day. 

I was also struck by the smallness of her hands, 
the musical intonation of her voice, and the purity 
with which she expressed herself in French, 
although she pronounced her words with a 
slightly guttural accent. 

One disappointment, however, awaited me : 
my reception was icy cold. In spite of the 
experience which I had acquired during the 
exercise of my special functions, it left me 
disconcerted. My feeling of discomfort was still 
further increased when, on reaching Aix-les- 
Bains, General von Berzeviczy, whom I had asked 
for an interview in order to arrange for the 
organization of my department, answered, curtly : 

" We sha'n't want anybody." 

These four words, beyond a doubt, constituted 
a formal dismissal, an invitation both clear 
and concise to take the first train back to Paris. 
My position became one of singular embarrass- 
ment. Invested with a confidential mission, I 
began by inspiring distrust in the very persons 
to whom this mission was addressed ; charged to 
watch and remove " suspects," I myself appeared 
to be more suspected than any ! 
4 




THE EMPRESS ELIZABETH OF AUSTRIA. 



\Pa& 4- 



THE EMPRESS ELIZABETH 

Nevertheless, I resolved that I would not be 
denied. I organized my service without the 
knowledge of our guests. Every morning, I 
returned to see General von Berzeviczy. Avoiding 
any allusion to the real object of my visit, I did 
my best to overcome his coldness. The general 
was a very kind man at heart, and a charming 
talker. I told him the gossip of the day, 
the news from Paris, the tittle-tattle of Aix. 
I advised excursions, mentioned the curiosities 
worth seeing, conscientiously fulfilled my part 
of Baedeker . . . and, when I carelessly questioned 
the general about the Empress's intentions as 
to the employment of her day, he forgot him- 
self to the extent of telling me. This was all 
that I wanted to achieve. 

In a week's time, we were the best of friends. 
The Empress had condescended to appreciate 
my attention in daily covering her table with 
newspapers and reviews. She gradually became 
accustomed to seeing me appear just in time to 
forestall her wishes. The game was won; and, 
when, later, curious to know the cause of what 
appeared to me to have been a misunderstanding, 
I asked General von Berzeviczy to explain 
the cause of his disappointing reception, he 
replied : 

" It was simply because, when we go abroad, 
they generally send us officials who, under the 
pretence of protecting us, terrorize us. They 
appear to us like Banquo's ghost, with long 
faces and rolling eyes ; they see assassins on every 



MY ROYAL CLIENTS 

side; they poison and embitter our holidays. 
That is why you struck us at first as suspicious." 

" And now ? " 

" Now," he answered, with a smile, " the 
experiment has been made. You have for- 
tunately broken with a bad tradition. In your 
case, we forget the official and remember only 
the friend." 



In the course of the three visits which the 
Empress Elizabeth paid to France between 1895 
and 1898, I had every opportunity of study- 
ing in the intimacy of its daily life that little 
wandering court swayed by the melancholy and 
alluring figure of its sovereign. She led an 
active and solitary existence. Rising, winter and 
summer, at five o'clock, she began by taking a 
warm bath in distilled water, followed by electric 
massage, after which, even though it were still 
dark, she would go out into the air, without 
informing her suite. 

Clad in a black-serge gown of so simple a 
character that no well-to-do tradeswoman would 
have cared to be seen in it, laced boots and, on 
her head, either a plain black mantilla or a straw 
hat also trimmed with black, she walked at a 
smart pace along the paths of the garden, or, 
if it were raining, perambulated the long passages 
that run out of the halls or " lounges " of most 
hotels. Sometimes, she would venture on the 
roads and look for a fine site — by preference, the 
6 






THE EMPRESS ELIZABETH 

top of a rock — from which she loved to watch the 
sunrise. 

She returned at seven o'clock and breakfasted 
lightly on a cup of tea, with a single biscuit. 
She then disappeared into her apartments and 
devoted two hours to her toilet. 

Her second meal was taken at eleven and 
consisted of a cup of clear soup, an egg, and one 
or two glasses of meat- juice, extracted every 
morning from several pounds of fillet of beef 
by means of a special apparatus that accom- 
panied her on her travels. She also tasted a 
light dish or two, with a preference for sweets. 
Immediately after lunch, she went out again, 
accompanied, this time, by her Greek reader. 

This Greek reader was a very important 
person. He formed one of the suite on every 
journey. Selected from among the young 
scholars of the University of Athens and often 
appointed by the Greek government, he was 
changed year by year. I, for my part, have 
known three different readers. Their duties 
consisted in talking with the Empress in the 
Greek language, ancient and modern, both of 
which she spoke with equal facility. 

This might have seemed a quaint fancy, 
but it was explained as soon as the Em- 
press's mental condition was better known. 
Ever haunted by a melancholy past, romantic 
by temperament and poetic by instinct, she had 
sought a refuge in literature and the arts. Greece 
personified in her imagination the land of beauty 

7 



MY ROYAL CLIENTS 

which her dreams incessantly evoked; she had 
a passionate love for antiquity, loved its artists 
and its poets ; she wished to be able, everywhere 
and at all times, when the obsession of her 
sad memories became too intense, to escape 
from the pitiless phantoms that pursued her and, 
in some way, to isolate her thoughts from the 
realities of life. The scholarly conversation of 
the young Greek savant made this effort easier 
for her; in the varied and picturesque surround- 
ings which her aesthetic tastes demanded, she 
took Homer and Plato for her companions ; and 
thus to the delight of the eyes was added the 
most delicate satisfaction of the mind. 

The Greek reader, therefore, was the faithful 
companion of her afternoon walks, which lasted 
until dusk; and the Empress often covered a 
distance of fifteen to twenty miles on end. 
Dressed as in the morning and always in black, 
she carried, whatever the weather might be, an 
en cas and a fan. For twenty years, she had 
obstinately refused to allow herself to be photo- 
graphed ; she dreaded the indiscretion of amateur 
photographers; and no sooner did she perceive 
a camera aimed in her direction than she quickly 
unfurled her black feather fan and modestly 
concealed her features, leaving nothing visible 
but her great, wide, never-to-be-forgotten eyes, 
which still retained all the splendour and fire of 
youth. 

The young Greek's duties, however, were not 
confined to talking to the Empress on her walks. 
8 



THE EMPRESS ELIZABETH 

Sometimes the reader would read. Carrying a 
book which Her Imperial Majesty had selected 
beforehand, he read a few chapters to her during 
the rests by the roadside, on the mountain-tops, 
or at the deserted edge of the sea. Later, he 
added the daily budget of cuttings from the 
newspapers and reviews which I prepared for her, 
knowing the interest which she took in the 
current events of the day. 

He also carried on his arm a dark garment, a 
skirt, to be exact. The Empress had the habit, 
in the course of her long walks, of changing the 
skirt in which she had started for one made of a 
lighter material. It was a question of health 
and comfort. This little change of attire was 
effected in the most primitive fashion. The 
Empress would disappear behind a rock or a 
tree, while the reader, accustomed to this rapid 
and discreet proceeding, waited in the road, 
taking care to look the other way. The Empress 
handed him the skirt which she had cast off ; and 
the walk was resumed. 

On returning to the hotel, she made a frugal 
dinner, consisting sometimes merely of a bowl of 
iced milk and some raw eggs washed down with 
a glass of Tokay, the whole forming an almost 
savage dietary to which she had forced herself, 
in order to preserve the slimness of figure which 
she prized so highly. 

She took all her meals alone, in a private room, 
and seldom passed the evening with her suite. 
Its members hardly ever saw her; sometimes 

9 



MY ROYAL CLIENTS 

the lady-in-waiting spent day after day without 
setting eyes on her imperial mistress. 

Of the different places in France which Her 
Imperial Majesty visited, the one which she loved 
above all others was Cap Martin, the promontory 
which separates the Bay of Monaco from that of 
Mentone. She came here for three years in 
succession, and returned to it each time with 
renewed pleasure. The softness of the climate, 
the wild beauty of the views, the splendour of 
the luxurious vegetation, and the poetic solitude 
of the pine-forests and orange-groves reminded 
her of her property of Achilleon in the island of 
Corfu and of her palace of Miramar on the 
shores of the Adriatic. She felt more at ease 
here than anywhere else; and here she created 
a charming home for herself. She selected as 
her residence the enormous hotel that stands at 
the end of the point, among the tall pines, the 
fields of rosemary, the clusters of myrtle and 
arbutus. The building, intended for the sojourn 
of princes and millionaires, combined something of 
the palace with something of the monastery. One 
could imagine, in fact, that a sovereign would 
love to have a retreat all to himself in 
that blue setting; and a community of monks 
also would have been extraordinarily happy in 
that solitude made for meditation and hope. 

The hotel, which had been open to visitors 
for only about a year, was hardly known at the 
time when the Empress first went there in search 
of retirement and repose. It was recommended 
10 



THE EMPRESS ELIZABETH 

to her by the Empress Eugenie, who had stayed 
there while the Villa Cyrnos was being built; 
the poor Tsarevitch George, who was already 
attacked by the illness of which he was to die, 
had also lived in it for a short time. 

The Empress Elizabeth occupied the ground- 
floor of the right wing, where she had a suite of 
six rooms on a corridor separated by a heavy 
red-velvet hanging from the public lounge. The 
windows opened on a terrace from which the 
eye took in the wonderful view extending from 
the picturesque houses rising in stages on the 
peninsula of Monaco to the verdant point of 
Bordighera, strewn with bright-coloured villas. 
Beyond the sunny coast-line and its rocky 
rampart, the immensity of the sea stretched its 
blue expanse, bathed in radiant light and covered 
with fleeting white sails, which the Empress loved 
to follow with her gaze until they disappeared 
below the horizon. 

The furniture of the imperial apartments was 
marked by extreme simplicity combined with 
perfect taste, most of the pieces being of English 
workmanship. Her bedroom was just the 
ordinary hotel bedroom, with a brass bedstead 
surmounted by a mosquito-net, a mahogany 
dressing-table, and a few etchings hanging on the 
walls. On the other hand, the management 
had placed beside the bed, at her request, a 
set of electric bell-pushes distinguished by their 
colours — white, yellow, green and blue — which 
enabled her to summon that person of her suite 

11 



MY ROYAL CLIENTS 

whose presence she required, without having to 
disturb the others. She made it a rule to give 
as little trouble as possible; and, when, by 
chance, she had a request to make of one of the 
strange servants, she never addressed them but 
in terms of the most exquisite politeness. This 
happened but rarely, for her service was per- 
formed exclusively by her own two women, Frau 
von Feifalick and Fraulein von Meissel. 

She was not at all difficult to please, although she 
certainly drove her love of cleanliness to an extreme 
pitch. In particular, she could not bear to have 
water, even for the purpose of her toilet, brought 
to her in any other vessel than glass-stoppered 
bottles. Her homeliness, it is true, proceeded 
less from an innate taste than from the severe 
discipline which she exercised over her habits. 
Thus she never slept on any but a hard mattress, 
a fact which one would have scarcely suspected 
from the aristocratic daintiness of her person. 

In addition to the ground-floor, one other room 
was reserved for her on every Sunday during her 
visits. This was the billiard-room, which, on 
that day, was transformed into a chapel. When 
the Empress came to the Cap Martin Hotel for 
the first time, she enquired after a church, for 
she was very religious. There was none in the 
immediate neighbourhood : to hear mass, one 
had to go to the village of Roquebrune, the 
parish to which Cap Martin belongs. The 
Empress then decided to improvise a chapel in 
the hotel itself, and, for this purpose, selected the 
12 



THE EMPRESS ELIZABETH 

billiard-room, to which she could repair without 
attracting attention. But the rites of the Church 
require that every room in which mass is said 
should first be consecrated; and none save the 
bishop of the diocese is qualified to perform 
the consecration. A ceremony of this kind 
in an hotel billiard-room would have been 
rather embarrassing. The difficulty was over- 
come in a curious and unexpected manner. 
There is an old rule by virtue of which the great 
dignitaries of the religious Order of Malta enjoy 
the privilege of consecrating any room in which 
they drop their cloak. It was remembered that 
General von Berzeviczy, the Empress's chamber- 
lain,occupied one of the highest ranks in the knight- 
hood of Malta. He was, therefore, asked to drop 
his cloak in the billiard-room. Thenceforward, 
every Sunday morning, the Empress's footman 
put up a portable altar in front of the tall oak 
chimney-piece; he arranged a number of gilt 
chairs before it; and the old rector of Roque- 
brune came and said mass, served by a little 
acolyte, to whom the lady-in-waiting handed a 
gold coin when he went away. 

The Empress, in fact, was extremely generous ; 
and her generosity adopted the most delicate 
forms. Herself so sad, she wished to see none 
but happy faces about her. And so she 
always distributed lavish gratuities to all who 
served her; and she succoured all the poor of 
the country-side. Whenever, in the course of 
her walks, she saw some humble cottage hidden 

13 



MY ROYAL CLIENTS 






in the mountain among the olive-trees, she 
entered it, talked to the peasants, took the little 
children on her knees, and, as she feared lest the 
sudden offer of a sum of money might offend 
those whom she was anxious to assist, she 
employed the most charming subterfuges. She 
would ask leave to taste their fruit, paying for it 
royally ... or else buying several quarts of milk, 
or dozens of eggs, which she would tell them to 
bring to the hotel next day. The good people 
were not aware of their customer's station : they 
took her for a rich foreigner who had had troubles 
of her own and who felt for the poverty of others ; 
and often, at break of day, some of them would 
come down from the mountain with bunches of 
wild flowers, which they handed to the porter of 
the hotel for " the lady in black." 

She ended, of course, by knowing all the walks 
at Cap Martin and the neighbourhood. She 
set out each morning with her faithful tramping- 
companion, the Greek reader. Sometimes she 
would go along the rocks on the shore, sometimes 
wend her way through the woods, sometimes she 
would climb the steep hills, scrambling "up to 
the goats," as the herds say. She never men- 
tioned the destination or the direction of her 
excursions, a thing which troubled me greatly, 
notwithstanding that I had had the whole 
district searched and explored beforehand. How 
was I to look after her ? 

" Set your mind at rest, my dear M. Paoli," 
she used to say, laughing. " Nothing will happen 
14 



THE EMPRESS ELIZABETH 

to me : what would you have them do to a poor 
woman ? Besides, not one of us is more than 
the petal of a poppy, or a ripple on the water ! " 

Nevertheless, I was far from easy, the more so as 
she obstinately refused to let one of my men follow 
her, even at a distance. One evening, however, 
having heard that some Italian navvies, who were 
at work on the Mentone Road, had spoken in 
threatening terms of the crowned heads who are 
in the habit of visiting that part of the country, 
I begged the Empress to be pleased not to go in 
that direction and was promptly snubbed for my 
pains : 

44 More of your fears ! " she replied. " I 
repeat, I am not afraid of them . . . and I make no 
promise." 

I was determined. I redoubled my super- 
vision and resolved to send one of my Corsican 
detectives, fully armed, disguised and got up 
as a navvy, with instructions to mix with the 
Italians who were breaking stones on the road. 
He rigged himself out in a canvas jacket and 
a pair of corduroy trousers, and made up his 
face to perfection. Speaking Italian fluently, he 
diverted all suspicion on the part of his mates, 
who took him for a newly-arrived fellow-country- 
man of their own. 

He was there, lynx-eyed, with ears pricked up, 
doing his best to break a few stones, when 
suddenly a figure which he at once recognized 
appeared at a turn in the road. The night was 
beginning to fall : the Empress, accompanied by 

15 



MY ROYAL CLIENTS 

her reader, was on her way back to Cap Martin. 
Bending over his heap of stones, the sham navvy 
waited rather anxiously. When the Empress 
reached the group of road-menders, she stopped, 
hesitated a moment and then, noticing my man, 
doubtless because he looked the oldest, she went 
up to him and said, kindly : 

" Is that hard work you're doing, my good 
man ? " 

Not daring to raise his head, he stammered a 
few words in Italian. 

" Don't you speak French ? " 

" No, signora." 

" Have you any children ? " 

" Si, signora." 

" Then take this for them," slipping a louis 
into his hand. " Tell them that it comes from a 
lady who is very fond of children." 

And the Empress walked away. 

That same evening, seeing me at the hotel, she 
came up to me with laughing eyes : 

" Well, M. Paoli, you may scold me, if you like. 
I have been disobedient. I went along the 
Mentone Road to-day and I talked to a navvy." 

It was my faithful Corsican. 

Sometimes, she ventured beyond the radius 
of her usual walks. For instance, one afternoon, 
she sent for me on returning from a morning 
excursion : 

" M. Paoli, you must be my escort to-day. 

You shall take me to the Casino at Monte Carlo : 

I have never been there. I must really, for 
16 



THE EMPRESS ELIZABETH 

once in my life, see what a gambling-room is 
like." 

Off we went : the Empress, Countess Sztaray 
and I. It was decided that we should go 
by train. We climbed into a first-class carriage 
in which two English ladies were already seated. 
The Empress, thoroughly enjoying her incognito, 
sat down beside them. At Monte Carlo, we 
made straight for the Casino and walked into 
the roulette-room. The august visitor, who 
had slipped through the crowd of punters leaning 
over the tables, followed each roll of the ball with 
her eyes, looking as pleased and astonished as 
a child with a new toy. Suddenly she took a 
five-franc piece from her hand-bag : 

" Let me see if I have any luck," she said to us. 
" I believe in number 33." 

She put the big coin on number 33 en plein. At 
the first spin of the wheel, it lost. She put on 
another and lost again. The third time, number 
33 turned up. The croupier pushed 175 francs 
across to her with his rake. She gathered it up 
and then, turning gaily to us, said : 

" Let us go away quickly. I have never made 
so much money in my life." 

And she dragged us from the Casino. 

Whenever she went to Monte Carlo, she 
always took tea at Rumpelmayer's, the famous 
Viennese confectioner's, for, as I have already 
hinted, she adored pastry and sweets. The 
Rumpelmayer establishments at Mentone, Nice 
and Monte Carlo were well aware of the identity 
c 17 



MY ROYAL CLIENTS 

of this regular customer ; but she had asked them 
not to betray her incognito. When there were 
many people in the shop, she would sit down at a 
little table near the counter; and nobody would 
have suspected that the simple, comely lady in 
black, who talked so familiarly with the girls in 
the pay-box and at the counter, was none other 
than Elizabeth Empress of Austria, Queen of 
Hungary. 

At other times, she would walk out on the 
pretty Beaulieu Road, edged with villas whose 
flower-gardens were a subject of perpetual delight 
to her. Here she was constantly followed by 
those little curly-haired Italian boys who go about 
selling plaster statuettes. The sight of them 
moved her compassionate heart to pity : 

" They are unhappy before their time," she 
would explain, as though in self -excuse. " Why 
not give them a trifling pleasure, when it costs so 
little ? " 

And she always bought their wares. The 
small Italians, of course, were overjoyed at this 
windfall, all the more as they were allowed to keep 
their statuettes, which they hastened to dispose 
of anew. 

She also often went to Nice. Nevertheless, 
she preferred to the frequented roads those steep 
and secluded paths which clamber up the heights. 
Just at the back of Monte Carlo stands a very 
precipitous mountain of rocks : it is crowned by 
a fort of the first importance, known as the Fort 
de Mont-Angel and overlooking the long chain 
18 



THE EMPRESS ELIZABETH 

of the Alps. It is reached by a road seven miles 
long, built by the corps of engineers, and affords 
a glorious view of the mountains and the sea. 

One day, the Empress said to me : 

" May we visit the fort ? I should like to see 
it. If you will do what is necessary, we will go 
there the day after to-morrow." 

Admission to the fort was prohibited to the 
public. I therefore informed General Gebhardt, 
at that time Governor of Nice, of Her Majesty's 
wishes. The general, anxious to be polite, not 
only hastened to give the desired authorization, 
but sent orders to Captain Giacobbi, commanding 
the fort, to look out for the Empress's arrival, 
so that he might show her round. 

Unfortunately, the Empress forgot her inten- 
tion. The poor captain dared not leave his fort, 
as he expected to see her arrive at any moment. 
Days passed, days and weeks. His wife and 
children, who lived at Nice, were heart-broken 
at never seeing him. At the end of two months, 
unable to bear the separation any longer, he 
wrote and told me of his unhappy position. I 
decided to mention the matter to the Empress. 
Deeply distressed, she told the Emperor, who had 
just arrived. He at once asked General Geb- 
hardt to countermand the captain's orders, and 
sent him the Cross of Francis Joseph by way of 
compensation. 



02 19 



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The Emperor joined the Empress on three 
occasions during her visits to Cap Martin. The 
event naturally created a diversion in the mono- 
tony of our sojourn. Though travelling in- 
cognito as Count Hohenembs, he was accompanied 
by a fairly numerous suite, whose presence 
added great animation to our little colony. 
I had, of course, to redouble my measures of 
protection and to send to Paris for an additional 
force of detective-inspectors. A telegraphic 
apparatus was installed at the hotel, to enable the 
sovereign to communicate direct with Vienna; 
and a gang of upholsterers busied themselves with 
decorating the apartments destined for his use 
and situated above those of the Empress. 

Francis Joseph generally spent a fortnight with 
his consort. I thus had the opportunity of observ- 
ing the touching affection which they displayed 
towards each other, notwithstanding the gossip of 
which certain sections of the press have made 
themselves the complacent echo. Nothing could 
be simpler or more charming than their meetings. 
As soon as the train stopped at Mentone Station, 
where the Empress went to wait its arrival, 
accompanied by her whole suite, in addition to the 
Austrian Consul, the Prefect of the Alpes-Mari- 
times, the Mayor of Mentone and myself, the 
Emperor sprang lightly to the platform and 
hastened, bare-headed, to the Empress, whom he 
kissed on both cheeks. His expressive face, 
20 



THE EMPRESS ELIZABETH 

framed in white whiskers, lit up with a kindly 
smile. He tucked the Empress's arm under his 
own and, with exquisite politeness, addressed a 
few gracious words to each of us individually. 

During the Emperor's stay, the Empress 
emerged for a little while from her state of timid 
isolation. They walked or drove together, and 
received visits from the princes staying on the 
Cote d'Azur or passing through, notably Edward 
VII., then Prince of Wales, the Archduke Regnier, 
the then Tsarevitch, the Prince of Monaco, the 
King and Queen of Saxony, and the Grand-duke 
Michael. Sometimes they would call on the late 
Queen of England, at that time installed at Cimiez, 
or on the Empress Eugenie, their next neighbour. 
It was like a miniature copy of the court of 
Vienna, transferred to Cap Martin. 

Francis Joseph, faithful to his habits, rose at 
five o'clock in the morning and worked with his 
secretaries. At half -past six, he stopped to take 
a cup of coffee, and then closeted himself once 
more in his study until ten. The wires were kept 
working almost incessantly between Cap Martin 
and Vienna : as many as eighty telegrams have 
been known to be dispatched and received in the 
course of a single morning. From ten to twelve, 
the Emperor strolled in the gardens with the 
Empress. Seen from a distance, they might 
have been taken for a honeymoon couple, so 
young did they both appear : she willowy, dainty 
and fragile; he thin, brisk and elegant, having 
retained the youthful figure of a cavalry subaltern, 

21 



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which was accentuated by the cut of his blue- 
serge suit and his knack of perching his black-felt 
hat a little on one ear. 

The Empress usually lunched alone, on account of 
her special diet ; on the other hand, she often dined 
at the imperial table. The dinners were marked 
by a certain amount of formality. The Emperor 
and the members of his suite sat down in evening- 
dress and decorations; the ladies in low-necked 
gowns. Francis Joseph drank nothing but dark 
lager beer, and, after dinner, lit a cigarette in a 
paper holder, which he subsequently threw away. 
On rising from table, the Emperor and Empress 
held a circle for a few minutes and then 
retired to their apartments. The two suites, on 
the other hand, stayed behind to chat; and, in 
this cosmopolitan frame provided by the hotel 
lounge, we were given a picture of the imperial 
ante-rooms at Schonbrunn. Groups formed 
among the wicker tea-tables and rocking-chairs. 
Here, Prince Lichtenstein, master of the horse, and 
Count Paar, principal aide-de-camp, laughed and 
talked with the ever- charming Baroness Miczi 
Sennyey, one of the prettiest women at the court 
of Vienna. A little farther, General von Berzeviczy 
sat talking with Dr. Kerzl, the Emperor's physi- 
cian, while, near them, Countess Emsidel chatted 
with Chevalier Claudi, the travelling equerry, and 
Baron Weber von Ebenhoff and Baron Braun, the 
Emperor's private secretaries. 

Francis Joseph often had General Gebhardt, 
the Governor of Nice, to dinner, and generally 
22 



THE EMPRESS ELIZABETH 

took a keen interest in military affairs. When 
he went to Mentone to return the visit which 
President Faure had paid him at Cap Martin, the 
French government sent a regiment of cuiras- 
siers from Lyons to salute him. The Emperor, 
struck by the men's fine bearing, reviewed them 
and watched them march past. 

It also occurred to me, during his stay in the 
south in the spring of 1896, to obtain an oppor- 
tunity for His Imperial Majesty to witness a 
sham fight planned by the 87th battalion of 
Alpine chasseurs on the heights of Roquebrune. 
The manoeuvres opened one morning at dawn in the 
marvellous circle of hills covered with olive-trees 
and topped by the snowy summits of the Alps. 
For two hours, the Emperor followed the incidents 
of the fight with close attention, not forgetting 
to congratulate the officers warmly at the finish. 

On the next day, he invited the officer in com- 
mand of the battalion, now General Baugillot, to 
luncheon. The major was a gallant soldier who 
was more accustomed to the language of the 
camp than to that of courts, and he persisted in 
addressing the Emperor as " Sire " and " Mon- 
sieur " by turns. Francis Joseph smiled and was 
greatly amused. At last, not knowing what to 
do, the major cried : 

" I beg everybody's pardon ! I am more used 
to mess-rooms than to drawing-rooms ! " 

The Emperor at once replied : 

" Call me whatever you please. I much prefer 

a soldier to a courtier." 

23 



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Francis Joseph, especially in his relations with 
women, possessed an exquisite and delicate 
courtesy that seemed to belong to a former 
century. After his last stay with the Empress at 
Cap Martin, they were both departing on the same 
day, he returning to Vienna, where urgent affairs 
of State required his presence, she going to Corfu, 
where she was called by her eternal longing for 
the land of the sun. They left the hotel together. 
The carriage taking them to the station was passing 
through the pines, when, suddenly, at a bend in 
the road, outlined against the green background 
of a palm-tree, appeared the figure of a woman in 
mourning, standing very upright under her white 
hair and still showing traces of sovereign beauty in 
the refinement of her features and the dignity of 
her stature. Leaning on her gold-knobbed 
cane, she seemed to be waiting for them; in 
fact, she made a sign to them. The Emperor 
at once alighted from the carriage with the 
Empress, took off his hat and, bowing very 
low, kissed the lady's hand. Then they talked, 
as they took a few steps in the heather. But 
time was passing; it was necessary to drive on. 
The Empress thereupon kissed her with every 
mark of respectful affection ; the Emperor, greatly 
moved, once more made her a very deep bow. 
And the carriage drove off at a brisk trot with the 
august travellers, while the stately lady stood 
leaning on her tall stick and followed them with 
her eyes until they disappeared from sight. 

They had taken leave of the Empress Eugenie, 
24 



THE EMPRESS ELIZABETH 

who little suspected that in the Empress Eliza- 
beth's kiss there lay a last farewell. 



Cap Martin and Aix were not the only places 
visited by the Empress of Austria. In the 
autumn of 1896, she was curious to see Biarritz; 
she returned there in the following year, when I 
again had the honour of accompanying her. The 
inclemency of the weather shortened the stay 
which she had at first intended to make ; and yet 
the rough and picturesque poetry of the Basque 
coast had an undoubted attraction for her. She 
spent her days, sometimes, on the steepest 
points of the rocks, whence she would watch the 
tide for hours, often returning soaked through 
with spray ; at other times, she would roam about 
the wild country that stretches to the foot of the 
Pyrenees, talking to the Basque peasants and 
interesting herself in their work. 

She had a mania for buying a cow in every 
country which she visited for the first time. She 
chose it herself in the course of her walks, and 
had it sent to one of her farms in Hungary. As 
soon as she saw a cow the colour of whose coat 
pleased her, she would accost the peasant, ask 
the animal's price and tell him to take it to her 
hotel. 

One day, near Biarritz, she saw a magnificent 
black cow, bought it then and there, gave her 
name of Countess Hohenembs to its owner, and 

25 



MY ROYAL CLIENTS 






sent him to the hotel with her purchase. When 
he arrived, however, and asked for Countess 
Hohenembs, the porter, who had not been pre- 
pared, took him for a madman and tried to 
turn him away. The peasant insisted, explained 
what had happened, and ended by learning that 
Countess Hohenembs was none other than the 
Empress of Austria. An Empress ? But then 
he had been cheated ! And he began to lament 
and shout and protest and lose his temper : 

" If I'd known it was a queen," he yelled, " I'd 
have asked more money ! I must have a bigger 
price ! " 

The discussion lasted for two hours, and I had 
to be called in to put a stop to it. 

This was not the only amusing adventure that 
occurred during the Empress's stay at Biarritz. 
One day, returning from an excursion to Fuen- 
terrabia, she stood waiting for a train on the 
platform of the little frontier-station at Hendaye. 
The reader, who was with her, had gone to ask a 
question of the station-master. The conversa- 
tion seemed never-ending and the train arrived. 
The Empress, losing patience, called a porter : 

" You see that gentleman in black ? " she said. 
" Go and tell him to hurry, or the train will leave 
without us." 

The porter ran to the reader and exclaimed : 

" Hurry up, or your wife will go without you ! " 

The Empress, who rarely laughed, was much 
amused at this incident. 

The strange form of neurasthenia from which 
26 



THE EMPRESS ELIZABETH 

she suffered, instead of decreasing with time, 
seemed to become more persistent and more 
painful as the years went on, and ended by 
gradually impairing her health. Not that the 
Empress had a definite illness : she simply felt an 
infinite lassitude, a perpetual weariness, against 
which she tried to struggle, with an uncommon 
amount of energy, by pursuing her active life in 
spite of it, her life of wandering and her long daily 
walks. 

She hated medicine, and believed that a sane 
and simple plan of hygiene was far preferable 
to any number of doctor's prescriptions. One 
day, however, seeing her more tired than usual, 
I begged her permission to present her with a few 
bottles of Vin Mariani, of the restorative virtues 
of which I had had personal experience. 

" If it gives you any satisfaction," she replied, 
with a smile, " I accept. But you must let me, 
in return, send you some of our famous Tokay, 
which is also a restorative and, moreover, very 
nice to take." 

A little while after, Count von Wolkenstein- 
Trosburg handed me, on the part of the Empress, 
a beautiful liqueur- case containing six little bottles 
of Tokay; and I was talking of drinking it after 
my meals, like an ordinary dessert- wine, when the 
count said : 

"Do you know that this is a very valuable 
present ? . . . The wine comes direct from the 
Emperor's estates. To give you an idea of what 
it is worth, I may tell you that, recently, at a sale 

27 



MY ROYAL CLIENTS 






in Frankfort, six small bottles fetched eleven 
thousand francs. ... It stands quite alone." 

I at once ceased to treat it as a common 
Madeira. The proprietor of the hotel, hearing 
of the gift which I had received, offered me 
five thousand francs for the six bottles. I need 
hardly say that I refused. I have four left, and 
I am keeping them. 

Towards the end of that same year, 1897, when 
she was staying for the second time at Biarritz, 
the Empress, feeling more restless and melan- 
choly than ever, resolved to go for a cruise in the 
Mediterranean on board her yacht Miramar. 
But she wished first to spend a few days in Paris. 

She had engaged a suite of rooms at an hotel 
in the Rue Castiglione, and naturally desired to 
preserve the strictest incognito. Still, it was 
known that she was in Paris; and the protection 
with which I surrounded her was even more 
rigorous than before. She was out of doors 
from morning till evening, went through the 
streets on foot to visit the churches, monuments 
and museums, and, at four o'clock, called regu- 
larly at a dairy in the Rue de Surene, where she 
was served with a glass of ass's milk, her favourite 
beverage, after which she returned to the hotel. 

One day, however, we had a great alarm : at 
seven o'clock she was not yet back. I anxiously 
sent to her sisters, the Queen of Naples and the 
Countess of Trani, to whom she occasionally 
paid surprise visits : she was not there. To 
crown all, she had succeeded in eluding the vigil- 
28 



THE EMPRESS ELIZABETH 

ance of the inspector who was charged to follow 
her at a certain distance. We had lost the 
Empress in the midst of Paris ! Picture our 
mortal anxiety ! 

I was about to set out in person in search of 
her, when, suddenly, we saw her very calmly 
appearing. 

" I have been gazing at Notre-Dame by moon- 
light," she said. " It was lovely. And I came 
back on foot along the quays. I went among the 
crowd and nobody took the least notice of 
me." 

Just as at Biarritz and at Cap Martin, she spent 
her evenings alone and withdrew to her room at 
a very early hour. She liked the members of 
her suite, however, to take advantage of the 
leisure which she gave them to amuse themselves. 

I remember, in this connection, that her Greek 
reader, at that time Mr. Barker, and her secretary, 
Dr. Kromar, expressed a wish to see something of 
the picturesque and characteristic side of Paris; 
and I took them one evening to the Central 
Markets. When we had finished our visit, I 
invited them, in accordance with the traditional 
custom, to come and have a plate of soupe a Voignon 
in one of the little common eating-houses in the 
neighbourhood. Delighted with this modest 
banquet, they described their outing to the 
Empress next day, and sang the praises of our 
famous national broth, which she had never 
tasted. 

" M. Paoli," she said, enthusiastically, i; I 

29 



MY ROYAL CLIENTS 

must know what soupe a Voignon is like. Mr. 
Barker has given me a most tantalizing descrip- 
tion." 

" Nothing is easier, ma'am : I will tell the 
people of the hotel to make you some." 

" Never ! They will send me up a carefully 
prepared soup which won't taste in the least like 
yours. And I must have it served in the identical 
crockery : I want all the local colour." 

Here I must make a confession : as I had it at 
heart — it was a question of patriotism, no less 
— that the Empress should not be disappointed, 
I thought it more prudent to apply to the man- 
ager of the hotel, who, kindly lending himself to 
my innocent fraud, prepared the onion soup and 
sent to the nearest bazaar for a plate and soup- 
tureen of the " local colour " in which the 
imperial traveller took so great an interest. The 
illusion was perfect. The Empress thought the 
soup excellent and the crockery delightfully 
picturesque : true, we had chipped it a little, 
with that object in view ! 

The Empress's only visit to Paris was a short 
one : as I have said, she had decided that year to 
air her melancholy on the blue waters of the 
Mediterranean. The projected cruise embraced 
a number of calls at different harbours along 
the Cote d'Azur ; and she asked me to accompany 
her. 

We left Paris on the 30th of December for Mar- 
seilles, where the imperial yacht lay waiting for us. 
commanded by a very distinguished officer, Captain 
80 



THE EMPRESS ELIZABETH 

Moritz Sacks von Bellenau ; and we were at sea, 
opposite the sinister Chateau d'lf, on the 1st of 
January of the year 1898, which was to prove so 
tragic to Elizabeth of Austria. I offered her my 
wishes for happiness and a long life. The Empress 
seemed to me sadder and more thoughtful that 
morning than usual : 

" I wish you also," she said, " health and 
happiness, for you and yours." And she added, 
with an expression of infinite bitterness, " As 
for myself, I have no confidence left in the 
future." 

Had she already received a presentiment of 
what the year held in store for her ? Who can 
tell? 

She gave us but little of her society during this 
voyage. She spent her days on deck and inter- 
ested herself in the silent activity, in the humble, 
poetic life of the crew. The sailors entertained 
a sort of veneration for her. They were con- 
stantly feeling the effects of her discreet and 
delicate kindness. Like ourselves, they respected 
her melancholy and her love of solitude. And, 
in the evenings, while the little court collected 
in the saloon and amused itself with different 
games, or else improvised a charming concert; 
while, at the other end of the ship, the sailors, 
seated under the poop, sang their Tyrolean or 
Hungarian songs to an accordion accompani- 
ment, the Empress, all alone on deck, with her 
eyes staring into the distance, would dream of 

the stars. 

31 



MY ROYAL CLIENTS 

On leaving Marseilles, we went to Villefranche, 
near Nice, skirting the coast. The Empress also 
wished to stop at Cannes and to see once more, 
from the sea, Monaco, Cap Martin, Mentone. 
She next proposed to revisit Sicily, Greece and 
Corfu : it was as though she felt a secret desire to 
make a sort of pilgrimage to all the ephemeral 
landmarks which her sad soul had erected in the 
course of her wandering life. 

However enjoyable this cruise might be to me, 
I had to think of abandoning it. My service 
with the Empress ended automatically as soon 
as she had left French waters. 

" Stay on, nevertheless." she said, kindly. 
" You shall be my guest ; and I will show you 
my beautiful palace in Corfu." 

But my duties, unfortunately, summoned me 
elsewhere. I had to return to Nice, to receive 
the King and Queen of Saxony, who were ex- 
pected there. It was decided, therefore, that I 
should leave the Miramar at San Remo. When 
the yacht dropped her anchor outside the little 
Italian town, I said good-bye to the Empress 
and to my charming travelling companions. 

" It is not for long, for I shall come back 
to France," said Elizabeth. 

She leant over the bulwarks, as the yacht's 
launch took me on shore, and I watched her 
delicate and careworn features first outlined 
against the disc of the setting sun and then 
merging,, little by little, in the distance and the 
darkness. 
32 



THE EMPRESS ELIZABETH 



Seven months had elapsed since the day when 
I left the Empress at San Remo. I was in Paris 
and read in the papers that she had just arrived 
at Caux, a picturesque little place situated above 
Montreux and overlooking the Lake of Geneva. I 
hastened to write, on chance, to Mr. Barker, her 
Greek reader, in order to receive her news. When 
I came home, on the evening of the 9th of Sep- 
tember, I was handed Mr. Barker's reply, which 
ran as follows : — 

" Caux, 8 September, 1898. 

" My Dear M. Paoli, 

" I was very pleased to receive your valued 
letter of the 6th instant, for which accept my 
best thanks. 

" Her Majesty proposes to spend the month 
of September at Caux, but I do not know what 
Her Majesty will do after that. Her Majesty 
commands me to say that she will be happy to 
see you here if your business should bring you to 
Geneva. At the same time, Her Majesty sends 
you her best greetings. Her Majesty intends to 
go to Nice (Cimiez) on the 1st of December, and 
she hopes that the ministry will attach you to her 
person. 

" I must now thank you for all the news which 

you have given me about yourself. As for me, 

I am very well and am enjoying our stay at Caux. 

d 33 



MY ROYAL CLIENTS 

" Her Majesty leaves to-morrow for Geneva, 
where she will spend two days. Countess Sztaray 
is going with Her Majesty. Dr. Kromar left 
yesterday., to take rooms for Her Majesty at the 
Hotel Beau Rivage. 

" Field-marshal von Berzeviczy remains with 

me at Caux. 

" I do not know whether I wrote to you that the 
general was created a field-marshal some time 

ago. 

" Pray remember me very kindly to your son, 

and believe me, 

" dear M. Paoli, 

" yours most sincerely, 

"Frederic G. Barker." 

The Empress was to spend forty-eight hours at 
Geneva. As I was on leave and had nothing to 
keep me in Paris, why should I not go and pay 
my respects to the august lady who had so 
kindly expressed the hope of seeing me again ? 
I at once made up my mind and, the next morning, 
took the train for Geneva. I calculated that, 
arriving in the evening, I had a chance of still 
finding the Empress at the Hotel Beau Rivage; 
besides, nothing need prevent me from going, 
next day, to Caux, where I was sure to see her 
and, at the same time, to have an opportunity 
of shaking hands with Field-marshal von Berze- 
viczy and Mr. Barker. Who would have thought 
that the train which carried me through the plains 
of Burgundy and Franche-Comte was taking me 
34 



THE EMPRESS ELIZABETH 

straight to the scene of a sad and blood-stained 
tragedy ? 

When we drew into the station at Geneva, I 
noticed an unwonted animation on the plat- 
forms : groups of people stood engaged in excited 
discussion, with a look of consternation on their 
faces. I paid no particular attention, however, 
for I was in a hurry. I hailed a fly and told 
the man to drive to the Hotel Beau Rivage. 
We had not gone twenty yards, when he turned 
round on his box: 

" What an awful crime ! " he said. 

" What crime ? " 

" Haven't you heard ? The Empress was 
assassinated this afternoon." 

" Assassinated ! " 

Livid and scared, I could hardly listen to the 
pitiful story of the tragedy. The Empress, it 
seemed, had been stabbed to the heart by an 
Italian anarchist, when about to embark on the 
1.40 steamer for Territet; she sank down on the 
Quai du Mont-Blanc; the people around her 
thought that she had fainted and carried her on 
board the boat : when they bent over her, she 
was dead. 

Dead ! It was true, it was really true ; if not, 

what was that great silent, motionless crowd 

doing on the Place Brunswick ? The crowd was 

innumerable, increased incessantly during the 

night and kept its eyes fixed unweariedly upon 

two windows with closed shutters. I sprang 

quickly from the carriage, when it stopped at 
»2 , 35 



MY ROYAL CLIENTS 

the hotel, rushed into the hall, which was full of 
people, flew up the crowded staircase and along a 
corridor in which English, German and Russian 
travellers were hustling one another, with scared 
faces, all anxious to see. At last, catching sight 
of a servant : 

" Countess Sztaray ? " I asked. 

" In there," he replied, pointing to a door 
standing ajar. 

I knocked, the door opened and Countess 
Sztaray, red-eyed, her features distorted with 
grief, gave me a heart-broken look and, with a 
sob, said : 

" Our poor Empress ! " 

" Where is she ? " 

" Come with me." 

Taking me by the hand, she led me and Field- 
marshal von Berzeviczy, who had just arrived, 
to the next room. There lay the Empress, stiff 
and already cold, stretched on a little brass 
bed under a thin white-gauze veil. Her face, lit 
by the flickering flame of two tall candles, 
showed no trace of suffering. A sad smile 
seemed still to hover over her pale and lightly- 
parted lips; two long tresses fell upon her slim 
shoulders; the delicate features of her face had 
shrunk; two purple shadows under her eyelids 
threw into relief the sharp outline of her nose 
and the pallor of her cheeks. She appeared as 
though sleeping peacefully and happily. Her 
tiny hands were crossed over an ivory crucifix; 
some roses, now almost withered — roses which 
36 



THE EMPRESS ELIZABETH 

she had picked that morning and which she 
was carrying in her arms when she received 
her death-blow — lay scattered at her feet. 

I stood long contemplating the corpse. My 
self-possession deserted me. In spite of myself, 
the tears came to my eyes and I cried like a 
child. 

Why had fate decreed that the Empress should 
go to Geneva ? Curiously enough, the idea came 
to her suddenly, it appeared, on Thursday the 8th 
of September. She had arranged to pay a visit 
to her friend, Baronne Adolphe de Rothschild, 
who was staying at her country-house, the 
Chateau de Pregny, at the western end of the 
lake. But it was a long excursion to make in a 
single day; and the Empress, contrary to the 
advice of Countess Sztaray, decided to sleep at 
Geneva, after leaving Pregny, and not to return 
to Caux until the following afternoon. She 
arrived at the Hotel Beau Rivage in the evening 
and went out after dinner. She was up, next 
day, at five o'clock. After occupying a portion 
of her morning with the complicated cares of 
her toilet and her correspondence, she went for a 
walk along the shady quays of the Rhone. 
Returning to the hotel at one o'clock, she hur- 
riedly drank a glass of milk. Then, accom- 
panied by her lady-in-waiting, Countess Sztaray, 
she hastened down to the steamboat-pier, in- 
tending to take the Territet boat that started at 
1.40. She had come to within two hundred 

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yards of the foot-plank connecting the steamer 
with the Quai du Mont-Blanc, when Lucchini 
flung himself upon her and struck her a blow 
under the left breast with a three-cornered file 
clumsily fitted to a wooden handle. The violence 
of the blow broke her fourth rib. 

Death was not instantaneous. She had the 
strength to walk as far as the boat ; and for this 
reason : the instrument, in its course, had pierced 
the left ventricle of the heart from top to bottom. 
But, the blade being very sharp and very thin, 
the hemorrhage at first was almost insignificant. 
The drops of blood escaped but slowly from the 
heart and its action was not impaired so long as 
the pericardium, in which the drops were collect- 
ing, was not full. This was how she was able to 
go a fairly long distance on foot with a stab in 
her heart. When the bleeding increased, the 
Empress sank to the deck. Had the weapon 
remained in the wound, she could have lived 
longer still. The Due de Berry, who was stabbed 
in exactly the same manner as the Empress, 
lived for four hours, because Louvel did not 
draw the dagger from the wound. 

The poor Empress, therefore, had the energy 
to drag herself to the boat, where a band of 
gipsies was playing Hungarian dances (a cruel 
irony of chance) while the steamer began to 
move away from the landing-stage. At that 
moment, she fainted. Countess Sztaray, who 
believed her to be stunned by a blow of the fist — 
for no one had seen the weapon in the assassin's 
38 



THE EMPRESS ELIZABETH 

hand — tried to bring her to with smelling-salts. 
The Empress recovered consciousness, spoke 
a few words, cast a long look of bewildered 
astonishment around her and then, suddenly, 
fell back dead. The dismay and excitement 
were intense. The boat at once put back to the 
pier; and, as there was no litter at hand, the 
body was carried to the hotel, shrouded in sails, 
on an improvised bier of crossed oars. 

Had the Empress received a presentiment of 
her tragic end, which a gipsy at Wiesbaden and 
a fortune-teller at Corfu had foretold her in the 
past ? Two strange incidents incline one to 
think so. On the eve of her departure for Geneva, 
she asked Mr. Barker to read her a few chapters 
of a book by Marion Crawford entitled Corleone, 
in which the author describes the detestable 
customs of the Sicilian Mafia. While the Empress 
was listening to this harrowing story, a raven, 
attracted by the scent of some fruit which she 
was eating, came and circled round her. Greatly 
impressed, she tried to drive it off, but in vain, 
for it constantly returned, filling the echoes 
with its mournful croaking. Then she rapidly 
walked away, for she knew that ravens are 
harbingers of death when their ill-omened wings 
persist in flapping around a living person. 

Again, Countess Sztaray told me that, on the 
morning of that day, she went into the Empress's 
room, as usual, to ask how she had slept, and 
found her imperial mistress looking pale and 
sad. 

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14 1 have had a strange experience," said 
Elizabeth. " I was awakened in the middle of 
the night by the bright moonbeams which filled 
my room, for the servants had forgotten to draw 
the blinds. I could see the moon from my bed 
and it seemed to have the face of a woman weep- 
ing. I don't know if it is a presentiment, but I 
have an idea that I shall meet with misfortune." 

During the three days that preceded the de- 
parture of the remains for Vienna, I stayed and 
shared the funeral watches with the little court, 
once so happy and now so pitifully robbed of 
its mistress. Field-marshal von Berzeviczy, 
Countess Sztaray and I sat for long hours con- 
juring up the memory of her who was now sleep- 
ing her last sleep beside us. Countless anecdotes 
were told, countless tiny and charming details. 
It already seemed almost a distant past which 
we were for the last time recalling, a bright and 
exquisite past which the gracious Empress was 
taking away with her. 

I went to see the murderer in his cell. I found 
a perfectly lucid being, boasting of his crime as 
of an act of heroism. When I asked him what 
motive had driven him to choose for his victim a 
woman, a sovereign living as far removed as 
possible from politics and the throne, one who had 
always shown so much compassion for the humble 
and the destitute : 

41 I struck at the first crowned head," he said, 

" that came along. I don't care. I wanted to 

make a manifestation and I have succeeded." 
40 



THE EMPRESS ELIZABETH 

The unhappy Empress's destiny was to be 
strange and romantic until the end, until after 
her death. Her body, carried to an hotel bed- 
room, started for Austria without pomp or 
display, amid an immense and silent crowd. 
The Swiss government had not the time to levy 
a regiment to show her the last honours. But 
it was better so, for she had, as her escort, a 
reverent and contemplative nation and, as her 
salute, the bells of all the towns and all the 
villages through which the funeral train passed. 
And this, I am certain, was just the simple and 
poetic homage which her heart would have 
desired. 

A few days after the tragedy, the Emperor 
Francis Joseph deigned to remember my respect- 
ful attachment to the consort whom he had 
loved so well ; and I received the following 
telegram : — 

"Wienburg, 15 September, 1898. 
" To M. Paoli, Ministry of the Interior, Paris. 

" His Majesty the Emperor, greatly touched by 
your sincere sympathy, remembers gratefully the 
devoted care which you showed the late Empress 
and thanks you again with all his heart. 

" Paar, 
" Principal Aide-de-camp to 

H.I.M. the Emperor of Austria." 

I also received from the archduchesses, the 
daughters, a hunting-knife which their mother, 

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the poor Empress, had valued very highly. I 
keep it religiously in my little museum. Some- 
times, I take it out and look at it ; and it invari- 
ably summons up one of the saddest and most 
touching~memories of my life. 



42 



CHAPTER II 

KING ALFONSO XIII 



" You wanted me, to complete your collection, 
did you not, M. Paoli ? " 

The presidential train had left Hendaye; the 
distant strains of the Spanish national anthem 
still reached our ears through the silence and the 
darkness. Leaning from the window of the sleep- 
ing-car, I was watching the last lights of the little 
frontier-town disappear one by one. 

I turned round briskly at the sound of that gay 
and clear voice. A tall, slim young man stood 
at the door of the compartment, with a cigarette 
between his lips and a soft felt hat on his head, 
and gave me a friendly little wave of the hand. 
His long, slender figure looked very smart and 
supple in a pale-grey travelling- suit ; and a broad 
smile lit up his bronzed face, his smooth, boyish 
face, adorned with the large, hooked nose of the 
Bourbons, planted like an eagle's beak between 
two very dark eyes, full of fire and fun. 

"Yes, yes, M. Paoli, I know you, though 
perhaps you don't know me yet. My mother 
has often spoken to me of you, and when she heard 

that you had been appointed to watch over my 

43 



MY ROYAL CLIENTS 

safety, she said, ' With Paoli, I feel quite at 



ease. 
"I 



am infinitely touched and flattered, Sir," 

I replied, " by that gracious mark of confidence. 

... It is true that my collection was incomplete 

without Your Majesty." 

That is how I became acquainted with H.M. 

Alfonso XIII. in the spring of 1905, at the time 
of his first official visit to France. " The little 
King," as he was still called, had lately completed 
his nineteenth year. He had attained his 
majority a bare twelvemonth before and was just 
entering upon his monarchical career, if I may 
so express myself. The watchful eyes of Europe 
were beginning to observe, with sympathetic 
interest, the first actions of this young ruler, who, 
with the exuberant grace of his gloriously confi- 
dent youth, supplied a startling and amusing 
contrast with the somewhat constrained formality 
of the gallery of sovereigns. Though he had no 
history as yet, plenty of anecdotes were already 
current about him and a number of morals were 
drawn in consequence. 

' He has a nature built up of impulse," said 
one. 

4 He is full of character," said people who had 
met him. 

' He is like his father : he would charm the bird 
from the tree," an old Spanish diplomatist 
remarked to me. 

" At any rate, there is nothing commonplace 
about him," thought I, still perplexed by the 



KING ALFONSO XIII 

unconventional, amusing, jocular way in which 
he had interrupted my nocturnal contemplations. 

No, he was certainly not commonplace ! The 
next morning, I saw him at early dawn at the 
windows of the saloon-carriage, devouring with 
a delighted curiosity the sights that met his eyes 
as the train rushed at full speed through the 
verdant plains of the Charente. Nothing escaped 
his youthful enthusiasm : fields, forests, rivers, 
things, people. Everything gave rise to sparkling 
exclamations : 

" What a lovely country yours is, M. Paoli ! " 
he cried, when he saw me standing near him. " I 
feel as if I were still at home, as if I knew every- 
body : the faces all seem familiar. It's c stun- 
ning ! ' " 

At the sound of this typical Parisian expression 
(the French word which he employed was epatant) 
proceeding from the royal lips, it was my turn to 
be " stunned." In my innocence, I was not yet 
aware that he knew all our fashionable slang 
phrases and used them freely. 

His spirits were as inexhaustible as his bodily 
activity; and, upon my word, we were hard put 
to it to keep up with him. Now running from 
one window to another, so as to " miss nothing," 
as he said, with a laugh; now leaning over the 
back of a chair or swinging his legs from a table ; 
now striding up and down the carriage, with his 
hands in his pockets and the everlasting cigarette 
between his lips, he questioned us without ceas- 
ing. He wanted to know everything, though he 

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MY ROYAL CLIENTS 

knew a great deal as it was. The army and navy 
excited his interest in the highest degree; the 
provinces through which we were passing, their 
customs, their past, their administrative organ- 
ization, their industries, supplied him with the 
subjects of an exhaustive interrogatory, to which 
we did our best to reply. Our social laws, our 
parliament, our politicians aroused his lively 
curiosity as eagerly . . . and then came the turn 
of Paris, that Paris which he was at last about to 
see, whose splendours and peculiarities he already 
knew from reading and hearsay, that Paris which 
he looked upon as a fairy-land, a promised land; 
and the thought that he was to be solemnly 
welcomed there sent a slight flush of excitement 
to his cheeks. 

" It must be wonderful ! " he said, his eyes 
ablaze with pleasurable impatience. 

He also insisted upon our giving him full details 
about the persons who were to receive him : 

" What is M. Loubet like ? And the prime 
minister ? And the Governor of Paris ? " 

When he was not putting questions, he was 
telling stories, recalling his impressions of his 
recent journeys in Spain : 

" Confess, M. Paoli," he said, suddenly, " that 
you have never had to look after a king as young 
as I." 

His conversation, jesting and serious by turns, 
studded with judicious reflections, with smart 
sallies, with whimsical outbursts and unexpected 
digressions, revealed a young and keen intelli- 
46 



KING ALFONSO XIII 

gence, eager after knowledge, a fresh mind open 
to effusive ideas, a quivering imagination, counter- 
balanced, however, by a reflective brain. I re- 
member the astonishment of the French officers 
who had come to meet him at the frontier, on 
hearing him discuss matters of military strategy 
with the authority and the expert wisdom of an 
old tactician; I remember also the surprise of a 
high official who had joined the train mid-way 
and to whose explanations the King was lending 
an attentive ear when we crossed a bridge over 
the Loire, in which some water-fowl happened to 
be disporting themselves. 

" Oh, what a pity ! " the King broke in. 
" Why haven't I a gun ? " And, taking aim with 
an imaginary fowling-piece, " What a fine shot ! " 

Again, I remember the spontaneous and charm- 
ing way in which, full of admiration for the 
beauties of our Touraine, he tapped me on the 
shoulder and cried : 

" There's no doubt about it, I love France ! 
France for ever ! " 

What was not my surprise, afterwards, at 
Orleans, where the first official stop was made, 
to see him appear in his full uniform as captain- 
general of the Spanish army, his features wearing 
an air of singular dignity, his gait proud and 
lofty, compelling in all of us a respect for the 
impressive authority that emanated from his 
whole person ! He found the right word for 
everybody, was careful of the least shades of 
etiquette, moved, talked and smiled amid the 

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gold-laced uniforms with a sovereign ease, show- 
ing from the first that he knew better than 
anybody how to play his part as a king. 

There is one action, very simple in appearance, 
but in reality more difficult than one would think, 
by which we can judge a sovereign's bearing in a 
foreign country. This is his manner of saluting 
the colour. Some, as they pass before the 
standard surrounded by its guard of honour, 
content themselves with raising their hand to their 
cap or helmet; others stop and bow; others, 
lastly, make a wide and studied gesture which 
betrays a certain, almost theatrical affectation. 
Alfonso XIII.'s salute is like none of these : in 
its military stiffness, it is at once simple and 
grave, marked by supreme elegance and profound 
deference. On the platform of the Orleans rail- 
way-station, opposite the motionless battalion, 
in the presence of a number of officers and civil 
functionaries, this salute, which so visibly paid a 
delicate homage to the army and the country, 
this graceful and respectful salute moved and 
flattered us more than any number of toasts and 
speeches. And, when, at last, I went home, 
after witnessing the young King's arrival in the 
capital and noticing the impression which he had 
made on the government and the people, I recalled 
the old Spanish diplomatist's remark : 

" The King would charm the bird from the 
tree ! " 



48 



KING ALFONSO XIII 



I saw little of King Alfonso during his first stay 
in Paris. The protection of sovereigns who are 
the official guests of the government did not come 
within the scope of my duties. I therefore left 
him at the station and was not to resume my 
place in his suite until the moment of his de- 
parture. The anarchist and revolutionary gentry 
appeared to be unaware of this detail, for I daily 
received a fair number of anonymous letters, 
most of which contained more or less vague 
threats against the person of our royal visitor. 
One of them, which the post brought me as I was 
on the point of proceeding to the gala performance 
given at the Opera in his honour, struck me more 
particularly because of the plainness of the warn- 
ing which it conveyed, a warning devoid of any 
of the insults that usually accompany this sort of 
communication : — 

" In spite of all the precautions that have been 
taken," it read, " the King had better be careful 
when he leaves the Opera to-night." 

This note was written in a rough, disguised hand, 
and was, of course, unsigned. I at once passed it 
on to the right quarter. The very strict super- 
vision that was being exercised no doubt excluded 
the possibility of a successful plot. But there re- 
mained the danger of an individual attempt, the 

murderous act of a single person ; and I knew by 
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MY ROYAL CLIENTS 

experience that, to protect one's self against that, 
one must rely exclusively upon " the police of 
Heaven," to use the picturesque expression of 
Senor Maura, the Spanish premier. 

Haunted by a baneful presentiment, I never- 
theless decided, on leaving the Opera, to remain 
near the King's carriage (as a mere passer-by, of 
course) until he had stepped into it with M. 
Loubet and driven off, surrounded by his squadron 
of cavalry. The attempt on his life took place at 
the corner of the Rue de Rohan and the Rue de 
Rivoli ; and both the King and M. Loubet enjoyed 
a miraculous escape from death. My presenti- 
ment, therefore, had not been at fault. 

I need not here recall the coolness which the 
young monarch displayed in these circumstances, 
for it is still present in every memory, nor the 
magnificent indifference with which he looked 
upon the tragic incident. 

" I have received my baptism of fire," he said 
to me, a couple of days later, " and, upon my 
word, it was much less exciting than I expected ! ' : 

Alfonso XIII., in fact, has a fine contempt for 
danger. Like the late King Humbert, he con- 
siders that assassination is one of the little draw- 
backs attendant on the trade of king. He gave 
a splendid proof of this courage at the time of the 
Madrid bomb, of which I shall speak later; and 
I was able to see it for myself two days after the 
attempted assassination in the Rue de Rohan. 

On leaving Paris, our royal visitor went to 
Cherbourg, where I accompanied him, to embark 
50 



KING ALFONSO XIII 

on board the British royal yacht, which was to 
take him to England. As we approached the 
town in the early morning, the presidential train 
was shunted to the special line that leads direct 
to the dockyard. Suddenly, while we were 
running pretty fast, a sharp stop took place, 
producing a violent shock in all the carriages. 
The reader can imagine the excitement. The 
railway- officials, officers and chamberlains of the 
court sprang out on the permanent way and rushed 
to the royal saloon. 

" Another attempt ? " asked the King, calmly 
smiling, as he put his head out of the window. 

We all thought so at the first moment. For- 
tunately, it was only a slight accident : the rear 
luggage-van had left the rails through a mistake 
in the shunting. I hastened to explain the matter 
to the King. 

" You'll see," he at once replied, " they will 
say, all the same, that it was an attempt upon 
my life : I must let my mother know quickly, or 
she will be frightened." 

The King was right. Some one, we never 
discovered who, had already found means to 
telegraph to Queen Maria Christina that a fresh 
attack had been made on her son. There are 
always plenty of bearers of ill-news, even where 
sovereigns are concerned . . . and especially 
when the news is false ! 

I took leave of the King at Cherbourg and 
joined him, the week after, at Calais, whence I 
was to accompany him to the Spanish frontier, 

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for he was returning straight to his own country. 
This time, the official journey was over; and I 
once more found the pleasant, simple young man, 
in the pale-grey suit and the soft hat. The warm 
welcome which he had received in England had 
not wiped out his enthusiastic recollections of 
France. 

" By George," he declared, " how glad I am to 
see this beautiful country again, even through 
the windows of the railway-carriage ! ' : 

A violent shower set in as we left Calais. The 
train went along a line in process of repair and 
had to travel very slowly. At that moment, 
seeing some gangs of navvies working under the 
diluvial downpour and soaked to the skin, the 
King leant out of the window and, addressing 
them : 

" Wait a bit ! " he said. " This will warm 
you. I'll give you something to smoke." 

And the King, after emptying the contents of 

his cigarette-case into their horny hands, took 

the boxes of cigars and cigarettes that lay on 

the tables, one after the other, and passed 

them through the window, first to the delighted 

labourers and then to the soldiers drawn up on 

either side of the line. They had never known such 

a windfall : it rained Upmanns, Henry Clays and 

Turkish cigarettes. When none were left, the 

King appealed to the members of his suite, whom 

he laughingly plundered for the benefit of those 

decent fellows. They, not knowing his quality, 

shouted gaily : 

52 






KING ALFONSO XIII 

" Thank you, sir. thank you ! Come back 
soon ! " 

We had but one regret, that of remaining 
without anything to smoke until we were able, 
at the next stop, to replenish our provisions of 
tobacco which had been exhausted in so diverting 
a fashion. 

When, on the following morning, we reached 
Hendaye, which is the frontier-station between 
France and Spain, a very comical incident 
occurred that amused the young traveller greatly. 
By a purely fortuitous coincidence, a crowd was 
waiting, as we pulled up, for the train of the late 
King Carlos of Portugal, who was also about to 
pay an official visit to France ; and the authori- 
ties and troops had collected on the platform to 
show the usual honours to this new guest. Our 
sudden arrival, for which nobody was prepared, 
as Alfonso XIII. was not now travelling officially, 
utterly disconcerted the resplendent crowd. 
Would the King of Spain think that they were 
there on his account, and would he not be offended 
when he discovered his mistake ? It was a 
difficult position, but the prefect rose to the 
occasion. As the King of Portugal's train was 
not yet signalled, he gave orders to pay the 
honours to Alfonso XIII. 

The moment, therefore, that our train stopped, 
the authorities and general officers hurried in our 
direction and the band of the regiment, which 
had been practising the Portuguese royal anthem, 
brisklv struck up the Spanish hymn instead. 

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MY ROYAL CLIENTS 

But the King, who knew what was what, leant 
from the window and, chaffingly, cried : 

" Please, gentlemen, please ! I know that you 
are not here for me, but for my next-door neigh- 
bour ! " 

At Irun, the first Spanish station, where I was 
to take leave of our guest, a fresh surprise awaited 
us. There was not a trace of police protection, 
not a soldier, not a gendarme. An immense 
crowd had freely invaded both platforms. And 
such a crowd ! Thousands of men, women and 
children shouted, sang, waved their hands, 
hustled one another and fired guns into the air 
for joy, while the King, calm and smiling, elbowed 
his way from the presidential to the royal train, 
patting the children's heads as he passed, paying 
a compliment to their mothers, distributing 
friendly nods to the men who were noisily cheer- 
ing him. And I thought of our democratic 
country, in which we imprison the rulers of States 
in an impenetrable circle of police supervision, 
whereas here, in a monarchical country, labouring 
under a so-called reign of terror, the sovereign 
walks about in the midst of strangers, unpro- 
tected by any precautionary measures. It was a 
striking contrast. 

But my mission was at an end. Still laughing, 
the King, as he gave me his hand, said : 

" Well, M. Paoli, you can no longer say that 
you haven't got me in your collection ! " 

" I beg your pardon, Sir," I replied. " It's not 
complete yet." 
54 



KING ALFONSO XIII 

" How do you mean ? " 

" Why, Sir, I haven't your portrait." 

" Oh, we must see to that ! " And, turning to 
the lord steward of his household, " Santo Mauro, 
make a note : photo for M. Paoli." 

A few days after, I received a photograph, 
signed and dated by the royal hand. 



Five months later, Alfonso XIII., returning 
from Germany, where he had been to pay his 
accession- visit to the court of Berlin, stopped to 
spend a day incognito in Paris. I found him as 
I had left him : gay, enthusiastic, full of good- 
nature, glad to be alive. 

" Here I am again, my dear M. Paoli," he said, 
when he perceived me at the frontier, where, 
according to custom, I had gone to meet him. 
" But this time I shall not cause you any great 
worry. I must go home, and I sha'n't stop in 
Paris for more than twenty-four hours — worse 
luck ! " 

On the other hand, he wasted none of his time. 
Jumping into a motor-car the moment he was 
out of the train, he first drove to the Hotel 
Bristol, where he remained just long enough to 
change his clothes, after which he managed, 
during his brief stay, to hear mass in the church 
of St. Roch, for it was Sunday, to pay a visit 
to M. Loubet, to make some purchases in the 
principal shops, to lunch with his aunt, the 

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MY ROYAL CLIENTS 

Infanta Eulalie, to take a motor-drive, in the 
pouring rain, to Saint-Germain and back, to dine 
at the Spanish Embassy, and to wind up the 
evening at the Theatre des Varietes. 

" And it's like that every day, when he is 
travelling," said one of his suite. 

The King, I may say, makes up for his daily 
expenditure of activity with a tremendous appe- 
tite. I have observed, for that matter, that the 
majority of sovereigns are valiant trenchermen. 
Every morning of his life, Alfonso XIII. has a 
good rumpsteak and potatoes for his first break- 
fast, often preceded by eggs and sometimes 
followed by salad and fruit. On the other hand, 
the King seldom drinks wine and generally con- 
fines himself to a tumbler of water and zucharillos, 
the national beverage, composed of white of egg, 
beaten up with sugar. 

In spite of his continual need of movement, 
his passionate love of sport in all its forms and 
especially of motoring, his expansive, rather 
mad, but very attractive youthfulness, Alfonso 
XIIL, even in his flying trips, never, as we have 
seen, loses the occasion of improving his mind. 
He is very quick at seizing a point, possesses a 
remarkable power of assimilation, and, though he 
does not read much, for he has not the gift of 
patience, he is remarkably well-informed as re- 
gards the smallest details that interest him. One 
day, for instance, he asked me, point-blank : 

" Do you know how many gendarmes there 
are in France ? " 
56 



KING ALFONSO XIII 

I confess that I was greatly puzzled what to 
reply, for I have never cared for statistics. I 
ventured, therefore, on the off-chance, to say : 

" Ten thousand." 

" Ten thousand ! Come, M. Paoli, what are 
you thinking of ? That's the number we have 
in Spain. It's more like twenty thousand." 

This figure, as I afterwards learnt, was strictly 
accurate. 

As for business of State, I also noticed that the 
King devoted more time to it than his restless 
life would lead one to believe. Rising, winter 
and summer, at six o'clock, he stays indoors and 
works regularly during the early portion of the 
morning and often again at night. In this 
connection, one of his ministers said to me : 

" He never shows a sign of either weariness or 
boredom. The King's ' frivolity ' is a popular 
fallacy. On the contrary, he is terribly pains- 
taking. Just like the Queen Mother, he insists 
upon clear and detailed explanations, before 
signing the least document, and he knows quite 
well how to make his will felt. Besides, he is 
fond of work, and he can work no matter where : 
in a motor-car, in a boat, in the train, as well as 
in his study." 

But it was especially on the occasion of the 
event which was to mark an indelible date in 
his life, a fair and happy date, that I had time to 
observe him and to learn to know him better. 
. . . The reader will have guessed that I am 
referring to his engagement. The duties which I 

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fulfilled during a quarter of a century have some- 
times involved difficult moments, delicate re- 
sponsibilities, thankless tasks, but they have also 
procured me many charming compensations ; 
and I have no more delightful recollection than 
that of witnessing, at first hand, that fresh and 
touching royal idyll, that simple, cloudless 
romance, which began one fine evening in London, 
was continued under the sunny sky of the Basque 
coast, and ended by leading to one of those rare 
unions which satisfy the exigencies both of public 
policy and of the heart. 

Like his father before him, Alfonso XIII. , when 
his ministers began to hint discreetly about 
possible " alliances," contented himself with 
replying : 

" I shall marry a princess who takes my fancy 
and nobody else. I intend to love my wife." 

Nevertheless, diplomatic intrigues fashioned 
themselves around the young sovereign. The 
Emperor William would have liked to see a 
German princess share the throne of Spain; a 
marriage with an Austrian archduchess would 
have continued a time-honoured tradition ; the 
question of a French princess was also mooted, 
I believe. . . . But the political rapprochement 
between Spain and England had just been accom- 
plished under French auspices ; an Anglo- Spanish 
marriage seemed to correspond with the interests 
of Spain; and it so happened that the Princess 
Patricia of Connaught had lately been seen in 
Andalusia. Her name was on all men's lips; 
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KING ALFONSO XIII 

already, in the silence of the palace, official circles 
were preparing for this union. Only one detail 
had been omitted, but it was a detail of the first 
importance : that of consulting the two persons 
directly interested, who did not even know each 
other. 

When the King went to England, no one 
thought for a moment but that he would return 
engaged . . . and engaged to Patricia of Con- 
naught. The diplomatists, however, had reckoned 
without a factor which was doubtless foreign 
to them, but which was all-powerful in the eyes 
of Alfonso XIII. : the little factor known as 
love. 

As a matter of fact, when the two young people 
met, they did not attract each other. On the 
other hand, at the ball given in the King's honour 
at Buckingham Palace, Alfonso never took his 
eyes off a young, fair-haired princess, whose 
radiant beauty shed all the glory of spring around 
her. 

" Who is that ? " asked the King. 

" Princess Ena of Battenberg," was the reply. 

The two were presented, danced and talked 
together, met again on the next day and on the 
following days. And, when the King returned 
to Spain, he left his heart in England. 

But he did not breathe a word about it. His 
little idyll, which took the form of an interchange 
of letters and postcards, as well as of secret 
negotiations with a view to marriage — negotia- 
tions conducted with the English royal family 

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by the King in person — was pursued in the 
greatest mystery. People knew, of course, that 
the princess and the King liked and admired each 
other; but they knew nothing of the young 
monarch's private plans. Moreover, he took a 
pleasure in mystifying those about him : he, who 
had once been so expansive, now became suddenly 
contemplative and reserved. 

Soon after his return, he ordered a yacht ; and, 
when the time came to christen her, he made the 
builders paint on the bows, in gold letters : 

"PRINCESS . . ." 

The comments aroused by those three little 
dots may be easily imagined. 

The moment, however, was at hand when the 
name of the royal yacht's godmother and, there- 
fore, of the future Queen of Spain was to be 
revealed. One morning in January 1906, I 
received a letter from Miss Minnie Cochrane, 
Princess Henry of Battenberg's faithful lady-in- 
waiting, telling me that the princess and her 
daughter, Princess Ena, were leaving shortly for 
Biarritz, to stay with their cousin, the Princess 
Frederica of Hanover, and inviting me to accom- 
pany them. This kind thought is explained by 
the fact that I had known the princess and her 
daughter for many years : I had often had 
occasion to see Princess Beatrice with the late 
Queen Victoria, to whom she showed the most 
tender filial affection; I had also known Princess 
Ena as a little girl, when she still wore short frocks 
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KING ALFONSO XIII 

and long fair curls, and when she used to play with 
her dolls under the fondly-smiling gaze of her 
august grandmother. She was then a grave and 
reflective child; she had great, deep, expressive 
blue eyes; and she was a little shy, like her 
mother. 

When, at Calais, I beheld a fresh and beautiful 
girl, unreserved and gay, a real fairy-princess, 
whose face, radiant with gladness, so evidently 
reflected a very sweet, secret happiness; when, 
on the day after her arrival at Biarritz, I un- 
expectedly saw King Alfonso arrive in a great 
state of excitement and surprised the first glance 
which they exchanged at the door of the villa . . . 
then I understood. Nor was I in the least 
astonished when Miss Cochrane, whom I had 
ventured to ask if it was true that there was 
a matrimonial project on foot between the King 
and the princess, answered, with a significant 
smile : 

" I think so ... it is not officially settled yet ; 
it will be decided here." 



The Villa Mouriscot, where the princesses were 
staying, was a picturesque Basque chalet, 
elegantly and comfortably furnished. Standing 
on a height, at two miles from Biarritz, whence 
the eye commanded the magnificent circle of 
hills, and buried in the midst of luxuriant and 
fragrant gardens, intersected by shady and silent 

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walks, it formed an appropriately poetic setting 
for the romance of the royal betrothal. 

The King came every day. Wrapped in a huge 
cloak, with a motoring-cap and goggles, he would 
arrive at ten o'clock in the morning, from San 
Sebastian, in his double Panhard phaeton, which 
he drove himself, except on the rare occasions 
when he entrusted the steering-wheel to his 
excellent French chauffeur, Antonin, who accom- 
panied him on all his excursions. His friends the 
Marques de Viana, the young Conde de Villalobar, 
counsellor to the Spanish Embassy in London, 
Senor Quifiones de Leon, the charming attache 
to the Paris embassy, the Conde del Grove, his 
faithful aide-de-camp, or the Marques de Pacheco, 
commanding the palace halberdiers, formed his 
usual suite. As soon as the car had passed 
through the gates and stopped before the door, 
where Baron von Pawel-Rammingen, the Princess 
Frederica's husband, and Colonel Lord William 
Cecil, the Princess Henry of Battenberg's comp- 
troller, awaited him, the King hurried to the 
drawing-room, where the pretty princess sat 
looking out for his arrival, as impatient for the 
meeting as the King himself. 

After the King had greeted his hosts at the villa, 
he and the princess walked into the gardens and 
exchanged much lively talk as they strolled about 
the paths in which, as Gounod's song says, " lovers 
lose their way." They returned in time for the 
family lunch, a very simple repast, to which the 
King's tremendous appetite did full honour. He 
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KING ALFONSO XIII 

used often to send for Fraulein Zinska, the 
Princess Frederica's old Hanoverian cook, and 
congratulate her on her culinary capacities, a 
proceeding which threw the good woman into an 
ecstasy of delight. After lunch, the young people, 
accompanied by Miss Cochrane as chaperon, went 
out in the motor, not returning until nearly dark. 
On rainy days, of course, there was no drive ; but 
in the drawing-room of the villa the Princess 
Frederica had thoughtfully contrived a sort of 
" cosy corner," in which the engaged couple could 
pursue their discreet flirtation at their ease. When 
they took refuge there, young Prince Alexander of 
Battenberg, who had joined his family at Biarritz, 
used to tease them : 

" Look out ! " he would cry to any one entering 
the room. " Be careful ! Don't disturb the 
lovers ! " 

In the evening, at dinner, the suite were present. 
The King changed into evening- clothes, with 
the collar of the Golden Fleece. At half-past 
ten, he left for the station and returned to San 
Sebastian by the Sud-Express. 

After a few days, although the pair were not 
yet officially betrothed, no one doubted but that 
the event was near at hand. 

" She's charming, isn't she ? " the King asked 
me, straight out. 

A significant detail served to show me how far 
things had gone. One day, the two young people, 
accompanied by the Princesses Frederica and 
Beatrice and the whole little court, walked to the 

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end of the grounds, to a spot, near the lake, where 
two holes had been newly dug. A gardener 
stood waiting for them, carrying two miniature 
fir-plants in his arms. 

" This is mine," said the King. 

" And this is mine," said the princess, in 
French, for they constantly spoke French to- 
gether. 

" We must plant the trees side by side," 
declared the King, " so that they may always 
remind us of these never-to-be-forgotten days." 

No sooner said than done. In accordance with 
the old English custom, the two of them, each 
laying hold of a spade, dug up the earth and heaped 
it round the shrubs, with shouts of laughter that 
rang clear through the silent wood. Then, when 
the King, who, in spite of his strength of arm, is a 
poor gardener, perceived that the princess had 
finished her task first : 

" There's no doubt about it," he said, " I am 
very awkward ! I must put in a month or two 
with the sappers ! " 

On returning to the villa, he gave the princess 
her first present : a heart set in brilliants. It was 
certainly a day of symbols. 

On the following day, things took a more 
definite turn. The King came to fetch the prin- 
cesses in the morning to take them to San Sebas- 
tian, where they met Queen Maria Christina. 
Nobody knew what happened in the course of 
the interview and the subsequent private luncheon 
at the Miramar Palace. But it was, beyond a 
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KING ALFONSO X11I 

doubt, a decisive day. At Fuenterrabia, the first 
Spanish town through which they passed on 
their way to San Sebastian in the morning, the 
King said to the princess : 

" You are now on Spanish soil." 

" Oh," she said, " I am so glad ! " 

" It will soon be for good." 

And they smiled to each other. 

The frantic cheering that greeted Princess Ena's 
arrival at San Sebastian, the hail of flowers that 
fell at her feet as she passed through the streets, 
the motherly kiss with which she was received 
at the door of Queen Maria Christina's drawing- 
room, must have convinced her that all Spain had 
confirmed its sovereign's choice and applauded 
his good taste. 

Twenty-four hours after this visit, the Queen 
Mother, in her turn, went to Biarritz and took 
tea at the Villa Mouriscot. The King had gone 
on before her. Intense happiness was reflected 
on every face. As the Queen stepped into her 
carriage, after graciously sending for me to thank 
me for the care which I was taking of her son, 
she said to the princess, with a smile : 

" We shall soon see you in Madrid." 

Then, taking a white rose from the bouquet 
with which the Mayor of Biarritz had presented 
her, she gave it to the princess, who pressed it to 
her lips before pinning it to her bodice. 

That same evening, the King, beaming all over 
his face, cried to me from a distance, the moment 
that he saw me : 

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" It's all right, Paoli ; the official demand has 
been granted. You see before you the happiest 
of men ! " 

The days that followed upon their betrothal 
were days of enchantment for the young couple, 
now freed from all preoccupation and constraint. 
One met them daily, motoring along the pictur- 
esque roads of the Basque country or walking 
through the streets of Biarritz, stopping before 
the shop-windows, at the photographer's or at the 
pastry-cook's. 

" Do you know, Paoli," said the King to me 
one day, " I've changed the princess's name ? 
Instead of calling her Ena, which I don't like, I 
call her Nini. That's very Parisian, isn't it ? " 

The royal lover, as I have already said, prided 
himself with justice on his Parisianism. 

It will readily be imagined that the protection 
of the King was not always an easy matter. 
True, it was understood that I should invariably 
be told beforehand of the programme of the day ; 
but the plans would be changed an hour later ; 
and, when the young couple had once set out at 
random, nothing was more difficult than to catch 
them up. 

I remember one morning when the King in- 
formed me that he did not intend to go out that 
day. I thereupon determined to give myself a 
few hours' rest. I had returned to my hotel and 
was beginning to enjoy the unaccustomed sense 
of repose, when the telephone-bell rang : 

" The King and the princess have gone out," 
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KING ALFONSO XIII 

said the voice of one of my detectives. iC It's 
impossible to find them." 

Greatly alarmed, I was hurrying to the Villa 
Mouriscot, when, at a bend in the road, I saw the 
fugitives themselves before me, accompanied by 
Princess Beatrice. 

" I say ! " cried the King, in great glee. " We 
gave your inspector the slip ! " 

And, as I was venturing to utter a discreet 
reproach : 

" Don't be angry with us, M. Paoli," the 
princess broke in, very prettily. " The King 
isn't frightened; no more am I. Who would 
think of hurting us ? " 

The great delight of Alfonso, who is very 
playfully inclined, was to hoax people that did 
not know who he was. One day, motoring 
into Cambo, the delicious village near which 
M. Edmond Rostand's property lies, he entered 
the post-office to send off some cards. Seeing 
the woman in charge of the office taking the air 
outside the door : 

" I beg your pardon, madame," he said, very 
politely. " Could you tell me if the King of 
Spain is expected here to-day ? " 

" I don't know anything about it," said the 
little post-mistress, in an off-hand manner. 

" Don't you know him by sight ? ,: 

" No." 

" Oh, really ! They say he's very nice : not 
exactly handsome, but quite charming, for all 
that."* 

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The good lady, of course, suspected nothing; 
but, when the King handed her his postcards, it 
goes without saying that she at once read the 
superscriptions and saw that they were addressed 
to the Queen Mother at San Sebastian, to the 
Infanta Dona Paz, to the Infanta Maria Teresa, 
to the prime minister : 

" Why, it's the King himself ! " she exclaimed, 
quite overcome. 

Alfonso XIII. was already far on his 
road. 

The most amusing adventure, however, was 
that which he had at Dax. One morning, he 
took it into his head to motor to the parched 
and desolate country of the Landes, which stretch 
from Bayonne to Bordeaux. After a long and 
wearing drive, he decided to take the train back 
from Dax. Accompanied by his friend Sehor 
Quinones de Leon, he made for the station, where 
the two young men, tired out and streaming 
with perspiration, sat down in the refreshment- 
room. 

" Give us some lunch, please," said the King, 
who was ravenously hungry, to the lady at the 
bar. 

The refreshment-room, unfortunately, was very 
scantily supplied. When the two travelling- 
companions had eaten up the sorry fare repre- 
sented by a few eggs and sandwiches, which had 
probably been waiting more than a month for a 
traveller to arrive and take a fancy to them, the 
King, whose appetite was far from being satisfied, 
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KING ALFONSO XIII 

called the barmaid, a fat and matronly Bearnaise, 
with an upper lip adorned with a pair of thick 
mustachios. 

" Have you nothing else to give us ? " he 
asked. 

" I have a pate de foie gras, but . . . it's very 
expensive," said the decent creature, whose 
perspicacity did not go to the length of seeing a 
serious customer in this famished and dusty young 
man. 

" Never mind, let's have it," said the King. 
The woman brought her pate, which was none 
too fresh ; but how great was her amazement when 
she saw the two travellers devour not only the 
liver, but the fat as well ! The pot was emptied 
and scraped clean in the twinkling of an 
eye. 

Pleased with her successful morning's trade 
and encouraged by the King's ebullient good- 
humour, the barmaid sat down at the royal 
table, began to tell the King her family affairs 
and questioned him with motherly solicitude. 
When, at last, the hour of departure struck, they 
shook hands with each other warmly. 

Some time afterwards, the King was passing 
through Dax by rail and, as the train steamed 
into the station, said to me : 

" I have an acquaintance at Dax. I'll show 
her to you : she is charming." 

The buxom Bearnaise was there, more mus- 
tachioed than ever. I will not attempt to 
describe her comic bewilderment at recognizing 

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her former customer in the person of the King. 
He was delighted and, giving her his hand : 

" You won't refuse to say how-do-you-do to 
me, I hope ? " he asked, laughing. 

The incident turned her head ; what was bound 
to happen happened : she became indiscreet. 
From that time onwards, she looked into every 
train that stopped at Dax, to see if " her friend " 
the King was among the passengers ; and, when, 
instead of stepping on the platform, he satis- 
fied himself with giving her a friendly little 
nod from behind the pane, she felt immensely 
disappointed : in fact, she was even a little 
offended. 

The Cambo post-mistress and the Dax bar- 
maid are not the only people who can boast of 
having been taken in by Alfonso XIII. His 
waggery was sometimes let loose upon grave and 
serious men. . . . Dr. Moure, of Bordeaux, who 
attended the young monarch for his operation 
on the nose, has a story to tell. He was sent 
for, one day, to San Sebastian and was wait- 
ing for his illustrious patient in a room at the 
Miramar Palace, when the door opened quickly 
and there entered a most respectable lady, dressed 
in silk flounces and wearing a wig and spectacles. 
Not having the honour of her acquaintance, the 
doctor made a deep bow, to which she replied 
with a stately curtsy. 

" It must be the earner era-major" he thought 
to himself. " She looks tremendously eighteenth- 
century." 
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KING ALFONSO XIII 

But suddenly a great burst of laughter shook 
the venerable dowager's frame from head to foot, 
her spectacles fell from her nose, her wig dropped 
off likewise, and a clarion voice cried : 

" Good-morning, doctor ! It's I ! " 

It was the King. 

The chapter of anecdotes is inexhaustible. 
And it is not difficult to picture how this playful 
simplicity, combined with a delicacy of feeling 
and a knightly grace, to which, in our age of brutal 
realism, we are no longer accustomed, made an 
utter conquest of the pretty English princess. 
When, after several days of familiar and daily 
intimacy, it became necessary to say good-bye — 
the princess was returning to England to busy 
herself with preparations for her marriage, Alfonso 
to Madrid for the same reason — when the moment 
of separation had come, there was a pang at the 
heart on both sides. And, as I was leaving with 
the princess for Paris : 

" You're a lucky man, M. Paoli, to be going 
with the princess," said the King, sadly, as I 
stepped into the railway-carriage. " I'd give 
anything to be in your place ! " 



While the court of Spain was employed in 
settling, down to the smallest particular, the 
ceremonial for the King's approaching wedding, 
Princess Ena was absorbed, at one and the same 
time, in the charming details of her trousseau 

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and in the more austere preparations for her 
conversion to Catholicism. This conversion, as 
I have already said, was a sine qua non to the 
consent of Spain to her marriage. 

The princess and her mother, accompanied by 
Miss Cochrane and Lord William Cecil, went and 
stayed at an hotel at Versailles for the period 
of religious instruction which precedes the ad- 
mission of a neophyte within the pale of the 
Roman Church; and it was at Versailles, on a 
cold February morning, that she abjured her 
Protestantism in one of the smaller chapels of 
the cathedral. 

The last months of the winter of 1906 were 
spent by the engaged pair in eager expectation 
of the great event that was to unite them for 
good and in the manifold occupations which this 
event involved. The date of the wedding was 
fixed for the 31st of May. A few days before 
that, I went to Calais to meet the princess. It 
was as though Nature, in her charming vernal 
awakening, was smiling upon the royal bride and 
had hastily decked herself in her best to greet the 
young princess. But the princess saw nothing : 
she had bidden a last farewell to her country, her 
family, and her home ; and, despite the happiness 
that called her, the fond memory of all that she 
was quitting oppressed her heart. 

" It is nothing, M. Paoli," she said, when I 
asked the cause of her sadness, "it is nothing; 
I cannot help feeling a little touched when I 
think that I am leaving the country where I 
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KING ALFONSO XIII 

have spent so many happy years to go towards 
the unknown." 

She did not sleep that night. ... At three 
o'clock in the morning, she was up and dressed, 
ready to appear before her future husband, 
before the nation that was waiting to welcome 
her, while the King, at the same hour, was striding 
up and down the platform at Irun, in a fever of 
excitement, peering into the night so as to be the 
first to see the yellow gleams of the train and 
nervously lighting cigarette upon cigarette to 
calm his impatience. 

Then came the whirlwind of festivals, at which 
the King invited me to be present ; the sumptuous 
magnificence of the marriage ceremony in the 
ancient church of Los Geronimos. ... It was 
as though the old court of Spain had regained 
its pomp of the days of long ago. Once more, 
the streets, all dressed with flags, were filled with 
antiquated chariots, with heraldic costumes, with 
glittering uniforms; from the balconies, draped 
with precious stuffs, flowers fell in torrents ; cheers 
rose from the serried ranks of the crowd ; an in- 
tense, noisy, mad gaiety reigned in all men's 
eyes, on all men's lips, while, from behind 
the windows of the state-coach that carried 
her to the church, the surprised and delighted 
princess, forgetting her fleeting melancholy, now 
smiled her acknowledgments of this mighty 
welcome. 

A tragic incident was fated brutally to interrupt 
her fair young dream. 

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Finding no seat in the church of Los Geronimos, 
the dimensions of which are quite small, I took 
refuge in one of the Court stands erected along 
the route taken by the sovereigns; and I was 
watching the procession pass, on its return to the 
palace, when my ears were suddenly deafened by 
a tremendous explosion. ... At first no one 
realized where it came from ... we thought 
that it was the report of a cannon-shot fired to 
announce the end of the ceremony. . . . But 
suddenly loud yells arose, people hustled one 
another and rushed away madly, shouting : 

14 It's murder ! It's murder ! The King and 
Queen are killed ! " 

Terrified, I tried to hasten to the street from 
which the cries came. A file of soldiers, drawn 
up across the roadway, stopped me. I then ran 
to the palace, where I arrived at exactly the same 
moment as the royal coach, from which the King 
and the young Queen alighted. They were pale, 
but calm. The King held his wife's hand tenderly 
in his own and stared in dismay at the long white 
train of her bridal dress, stained with great 
splashes of blood. Filled with horror, I went up 
to Alfonso XIII. : 

"Oh, Sir," I cried, "at least, both of you are 
safe and sound ! " 

' Yes," he replied. Then, lowering his voice, 
he added, "But there are some killed. Poor 
people ! . . . What an infamous thing ! " 
Under her great white veil, the Queen, standing 

between Queen Maria Christina and the Princess 

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KING ALFONSO XIII 

Henry of Battenberg, still both trembling, 
wept silent tears. Then the King, profoundly 
moved, drew nearer to her and kissed her 
slowly on the cheek, whispering these charming 
words : 

" I do hope that you are not angry with me for 
the emotion which I have all involuntarily caused 
you ? " 

What she replied I did not hear : I only saw a 
kiss. 

Notwithstanding the warm manifestations of 
loyalty which the people of Spain lavished upon 
their sovereigns on the following day, Queen 
Victoria is said to have been long haunted by the 
horrible spectacle which she had beheld and to 
have retained an intense feeling of terror and 
sadness arising from that tragic hour. But, God 
be praised, everything passes. . . . When, later, 
I had the honour of again finding myself in attend- 
ance upon the King and Queen, at Biarritz and 
in Paris, I recognized once more the happy and 
loving young couple whom I had known at the 
time of their engagement. Alfonso XIII. had 
the same gaiety, the same high spirits as before ; 
and the Queen's mind seemed to show no trace of 
painful memories. 

In the course of the first journey which I took 
with them, a year after the murderous attempt in 
Madrid, the King himself acquainted me with the 
real cause of this happy equanimity so promptly 
recovered. Walking into the compartment where 
I was sitting, he lifted high into the air a pink and 

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chubby child and, holding it up for me to look at, 
said, with more than a touch of pride in his 
voice : 

" There ! What do you think of him ? Isn't 
he splendid ? " 



76 



CHAPTER III 

THE SHAH OF PERSIA 



Must I confess it ? When I heard, a few weeks 
before the opening of the International Exhibition 
of 1900, that I was to have the honour of being 
attached to the person of Muzaffr-ed-Din, King 
of Kings and Shah of Persia, during the whole 
length of the official visit which he contemplated 
paying to Paris, I did not welcome the news 
with the alacrity which it ought perhaps to have 
provoked. 

And yet I had no reason to be prejudiced 
against this monarch : I did not even know him. 
My apprehensions were grounded on more remote 
causes : I recalled the memories which a former 
Shah, his predecessor, had left among us. Nasr- 
ed-Din was a strange and capricious sovereign, 
who had never succeeded in making up his mind, 
when he came to Europe, to leave the manners 
and customs of his native land behind him or 
to lay aside the troublesome fancies in which his 
reckless despotism delighted to indulge. Was it 
not related of him that, while staying in the 
country, in France, he caused a sheep or two 

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to be sacrificed every morning in his bedroom, 
in order to ensure the prophet's clemency until 
the evening; and that he had the amiable habit 
of buying anything that took his fancy, but 
neglecting to pay the bill ? 

Lastly, this very delicious story was told 
about him. The Shah had asked whether he 
could not, by way of amusement, be present at 
an execution of capital punishment during one 
of his stays in Paris. It so happened that an 
occasion offered. He was invited to go, one 
morning, to the Place de la Roquette, where the 
scaffold had been erected. He arrived with his 
diamonds and his suite ; but, the moment he saw 
the condemned man, his generous heart was filled 
with a sudden tenderness for the murderer : 

" Not that one . . . the other ! "he ordered, 
pointing to the public prosecutor, who was 
presiding over the ceremony. 

Picture the magistrate's face, while the Shah 
insisted and thought it discourteous of them not 
at once to yield to his wishes. 

I asked myself, therefore, with a certain dismay 
what unpleasant surprises his successor might 
have in store for me. He seemed to me to come 
from the depths of a very old and mysterious 
form of humanity, travelling from his capital to 
the shores of Europe, slowly, by easy stages, as 
in the mediaeval times, across deserts and moun- 
tains and blue-domed cities of the dead, escorted 
by a fabulous baggage-train of rare stuffs, of 
praying-carpets, of marvellous jewels, an army of 
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MUZAFFR-ED-DIN, SHAH OF PERSIA. 



[Page 78. 



THE SHAH OF PERSIA 

turbaned horsemen, a swarm of officials, a harem 
of dancing girls and a long file of camels. 

I asked myself whether I, too, should be obliged 
to assist at sacrifices of heifers and to console un- 
paid tradesmen, only to end by being pointed out 
by His Majesty as a " substitute " under the knife 
of the guillotine. 

However, I was needlessly alarmed : in Persia, 
thank goodness, the Shahs succeed, but do not 
resemble one another. I became fully aware of 
this when I was admitted into the intimacy of 
our new guest. Muzaffr-ed-Din had nothing in 
common with his father. He was an overgrown 
child, whose massive stature, great bushy mous- 
tache, very kind, round eyes, prominent stomach 
and general adiposity formed a contrast with his 
backward mental condition and his sleepy in- 
telligence. He had, in fact, the brain of a twelve- 
year-old schoolboy, together with a schoolboy's 
easily-aroused astonishment, candour and curio- 
sity. He busied himself exclusively with small 
things, the only things that excited and interested 
him. He was gentle, good-natured, an arrant 
coward, open-handed at times and extremely 
capricious; but his whims never went so far as 
to take pleasure in the suffering of others. He 
loved life, was enormously attached to it, in fact ; 
and he liked me, too, with a real affection, which 
was spontaneous and, at times, touching : 

" Paoli, worthy Paoli," he said to me one day, 
in an expansive mood, fixing his round pupils 
upon me, " you . . . my good, my dear domestic ! " 

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When I appeared surprised and even a little 
offended at the place which he was allotting me 
in the social scale : 

" His Majesty means to say," explained the 
grand vizier, " that he looks upon you as belong- 
ing to the family. ' Domestic ' in his mind 
means a friend of the house, according to the 
true etymology of the word, which is derived 
from the Latin domus" 

The intention was pretty enough; I asked no 
more, remembering that Muzaffr-ed-Din spoke 
French with difficulty and employed a sort of 
nigger jargon to express his thoughts. 



At the time of his first stay in Paris, he had the 
privilege of inaugurating the famous Sovereigns' 
Palace, which the government had fitted up in 
the Avenue du Bois de Boulogne for the enter- 
tainment of its royal visitors. The house was 
a comparatively small one; on the other hand, 
it was sumptuously decorated. The national 
furniture-repository had sent some of the finest 
pieces to be found in its historic store-rooms. 
In fact, I believe that the Shah slept in the bed 
of Napoleon I. and washed his hands and face 
in the Empress Marie-Louise's basin : things that 
interested him but little. Great memories were 
a matter of indifference to him; he infinitely 
preferred futile realities in the form of useless 
objects, whose glitter pleased his eye, and of 
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THE SHAH OF PERSIA 

more or less harmonious sounds, whose vibra- 
tions tickled his ears. 

His taste in such matters was proved on the day 
of his arrival, by two immediate decisions : he 
ordered the grand piano which adorned his draw- 
ing-room to be packed up for Teheran, together 
with the motor-car which awaited his good pleasure 
outside, after hearing the one, trying the other, 
and lavishly paying for both. He would not be 
denied. 

His amazement was great when he visited the 
exhibition for the first time. The wonderful 
cosmopolitan city that seemed to have leapt 
into existence in the space of one of the thousand 
and one nights of the Persian legend stirred his 
eastern imagination, strive though he might to 
conceal the fact. The splendour of the exotic 
display exercised an irresistible attraction upon 
him; the glass-cases of jewellery also fascinated 
his gaze, although he himself, doubtless without 
realizing it, was a perambulating shop-window 
which any jeweller would have hankered to possess. 
On his long Persian tunic, with its red border 
and its wide, pleated skirt, he wore a regular 
display of precious stones ; and one did not know 
which to admire most: the gleaming sapphires 
that adorned his shoulder-straps, the splendid 
emeralds, the exquisite turquoises that studded 
the baldrick and the gold scabbard of his sword, 
the four enormous rubies that took the place 
of buttons on his uniform, or the dazzling and 
formidable diamond, the famous Daria-Nour, 
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or Sea of Light, fastened to his khola, the 
traditional head-dress, whence a quivering aig- 
rette in brilliants sprang like a fountain of light. 
Thus decked out, Muzaffr-ed-Din was valued at 
thirty-four million francs net; and, even then, he 
was far from carrying the whole of his fortune 
upon his person : I have in fact been assured 
that, in the depths of the iron trunk of which four 
vigilant Persians had the keeping, there slumbered 
as many precious stones again, no less fine than 
the others and content to undergo the rigour of a 
temporary disgrace. At all events, in the guise in 
which he showed himself in public, he was enough 
to excite the admiring curiosity of the crowd. 

In his solemn walks through the various 
sections of the exhibition, where my modest 
frock-coat looked drab and out of place among 
the glittering uniforms, he was attended by the 
grand vizier, the only dignitary entitled, by the 
etiquette of the Persian court, to carry a cane 
in the presence of his sovereign, who himself 
always leant upon a stick made of some precious 
wood. Nothing could damp his eagerness to 
know, to see, and to buy things. He bought 
everything indifferently : musical instruments, 
old tapestries, a set of table-cutlery, a panorama, 
a " new art " ring, a case of pistols. He looked, 
touched, weighed the thing in his hand and then, 
raising his forefinger, said, " Je prends" while 
the delighted exhibitor, greatly touched and 
impressed, took down the order and the address. 

Nevertheless, Muzaffr-ed-Din was not so rich 
82 



THE SHAH OF PERSIA 

as one would be inclined to think. Each time, 
in fact, that he came to Europe, where he 
spent fabulous sums, he procured the money 
needed for his journey, not only by raising a 
loan, generally in Russia, but also by a method 
which was both ingenious and businesslike. 
Before leaving his possessions, he summoned his 
chief officers of State — ministers, provincial 
governors and the like — and proposed the fol- 
lowing bargain to them : those who wished to 
form part of his suite must first pay him a sum 
of money which he valued in accordance with 
the importance of their functions. It varied be- 
tween 50,000 and 300,000 francs. In return, he 
authorized them to recoup themselves for this 
advance in any way they pleased. Here we find 
the explanation of the large number of persons 
who accompanied the Shah on his travels and the 
quaint and unexpected titles which they bore, 
such as that of " minister of the dock-yard," 
though Persia has never owned a navy, and one 
still more extraordinary, that of " attorney-general 
to the heir- apparent." Although these gentry 
sometimes had romantic souls, they invariably pos- 
sessed terribly practical minds. Eager to recover 
as quickly as possible the outlay to which their 
ambition to behold the west had induced them 
to consent, they practised on a huge scale and 
without scruple or hesitation what I may de- 
scribe as the bonus or commission system. Not- 
withstanding my long experience of human 

frailties, I confess that this proceeding, cynically 
g 2 83 



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raised to the level of an institution, upset 
all my notions, while it explained how the 
Shah was able to spend eight to twelve million 
francs in pocket-money on each of his trips 
to France. 

As soon as the people about him knew what 
shops His Majesty proposed to visit in the course 
of his daily drives, a bevy of courtiers would 
swoop down upon each awestruck tradesman 
and imperiously insist upon his promising them 
a big commission, in exchange for which they 
undertook to prevail upon His Majesty graciously 
to honour the establishment with his custom. 
The shopkeeper, as a rule, raised no objection : 
he was quite content to increase the price in 
proportion; and, when the good Shah, accom- 
panied by his vizier, presented himself a few 
hours later in the shop, his suite praised the 
goods of the house so heartily that he never 
failed to let fall the time-honoured phrase, " Je 
prends" so as to give no one even the slightest 
pain or trouble. Nor, for that matter, did any of 
those round him dream of making a secret of 
the traffic in which they indulged behind their 
sovereign's back : it was a right duly acquired 
and paid for. 

I am bound to say, however, that the grand 
vizier — no doubt because he was already too 
well-off — appeared to be above these sordid and 
venal considerations. This important personage, 
whose name on the occasion in question was His 
Highness the Sadrazani Mirza Ali Asghar Khan 
84 



THE SHAH OF PERSIA 

Emin es Sultan, combined an acute understanding 

with a superior cast of mind ; the Shah showed 

him the greatest affection and treated him as a 

friend. These marks of special kindness were 

due to curious causes, which an amiable Persian 

was good enough to reveal to me. It appears 

that, when the late Shah Nasr-ed-Din was shot 

dead at the mosque where he was making a 

pilgrimage, the grand vizier of the time, who 

was none other than this same Mirza Ali Asghar 

Khan, pretended that the Shah's wound was not 

serious, had the corpse seated in the carriage and 

drove back to the palace beside it, acting as if 

he were talking to his sovereign, fanning him 

and asking at intervals for water to quench his 

thirst, as though he were still alive. 

The death was not acknowledged till some days 
later. In this way, the vizier gave the heir- 
apparent, the present Shah, time to return from 
Tauris and avoided the grave troubles that would 
certainly have arisen had the truth been known. 
Muzaffr-ed-Din owed his crown and perhaps his 
life to his grand vizier : small wonder that he 
showed him some gratitude. 

His court minister, Mohamed Khan, could 
also have laid claim to this gratitude, for he 
gave proof of remarkable presence of mind 
at the time of the attempted assassination 
of Muzaffr-ed-Din during his stay in Paris in 
1900. 

The incident is perhaps still in the reader's 
recollection. The Shah, with the court minister 

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seated by his side, and General Parent, the chief 
French officer attached to his person, facing him, 
had just left the Sovereigns' Palace to drive to 
the exhibition, when a man sprang on the step 
of the open landau, drew a revolver and took 
aim at the monarch's chest. Before he had 
time, however, to pull the trigger, a hand of iron 
fell upon his wrist and clutched it with such 
force that the man was compelled to drop his 
weapon, which fell at the feet of the sovereign, 
while the would-be murderer was arrested by 
the police. Mohamed Khan, by this opportune 
and energetic interference, had prevented a shot 
the consequences of which would have been 
disastrous for the Shah and very annoying for 
the French government, all the more inasmuch 
as the author of this attempt was a French 
subject, a sort of fanatic from the south, to whom 
the recent assassination of King Humbert of 
Italy had suggested this fantastic plan of making 
away with the unoffending Muzaffr-ed-Din. 

Here is a curious detail : I had that very morn- 
ing received an anonymous letter, dated from 
Naples, but posted in Paris, in which the sovereign 
was warned that an attempt would be made on his 
life. Although this kind of communication was a 
very frequent one, I ordered the supervision to be 
redoubled inside the palace; as a matter of fact, 
I did not much fear a surprise outside, as the Shah 
never drove out but his carriage was surrounded 
by a detachment of cavalry. Now ill-luck would 
have it that he took it into his head, that day, 
86 



THE SHAH OF PERSIA 

to go out before the time which he himself had 
fixed and without waiting for the arrival of the 
escort : I have shown the result. 

During the whole of this tragic scene, which 
lasted only a few seconds, he did not utter a 
single word; the pallor which overspread his 
cheeks alone betrayed his emotion : nevertheless, 
he ordered the coachman to drive on. When, at 
last, they reached the Champs filysees and he 
perceived numerous groups waiting to cheer him, 
he emerged from his stupor : 

"Is it going to happen again ? " he cried, in 
accents of terror. 



He was, in fact, given to easy and strange fits 
of alarm. He always carried a loaded pistol in 
his trousers-pocket, though he never used it. On 
one of his journeys in France, he even took it 
into his head to make a high court-official walk 
before him when he left the theatre, carrying a 
revolver pointed at the peaceable sightseers who 
had gathered to see him come out. As soon as 
I perceived this, I ran up to the threatening 
bodyguard : 

" Put that revolver away," I said. " It's not 
the custom here." 

But I had to insist pretty roughly before he 
consented to sheathe his weapon. 

The Shah, for that matter, was no less dis- 

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trustful of his own subjects; in fact I observed 
that, when the Persians were in his presence, 
they adopted a uniform attitude, which con- 
sisted in holding their hands crossed on their 
stomachs, no doubt as evidence of their harmless 
intentions. 

For the rest, his " alarms " displayed them- 
selves under the most diverse aspects and in the 
most unexpected circumstances. For instance, 
there was no persuading him ever to ascend the 
Eiffel Tower. The disappointment of his guides 
was increased by the fact that he would come as 
far as the foot of the pillars ; they always thought 
that he meant to go up. But no : once below 
the immense iron framework, he gazed up in the 
air, examined the lifts, flung a timid glance at 
the staircase, then suddenly turned on his heels 
and walked away. They told him in vain that 
his august father had ascended as far as the 
first floor; nothing could induce him to do as 
much. 

Again, I remember a day — it was at the time 
of his second stay in Paris — when, on entering 
his drawing-room, I found him wearing a very 
careworn air. 

" Paoli," he said, taking my hand and leading 
me to the window, " look ! " 

Look as I might, I saw nothing out of the way. 
Down below, three bricklayers stood on the 
pavement, talking quietly together. 

" What ! " said the Shah. " Don't you see 
those men standing still, down there ? They have 
88 



THE SHAH OF PERSIA 

been there for an hour, talking and watching my 
window. Paoli, they want to kill me ! " 

Repressing a strong desire to laugh, I resolved 
to reassure our guest with a lie : 

" Why, I know them ! " I replied. " I know 
their names : they are decent working-men." 

Muzaffr-ed-Din's face lit up at once : 

" You seem to know everybody," he said, 
giving me a grateful look. 

The most amusing incident was that which 
happened on the occasion of an experiment with 
radium. I had described to the sovereign, in 
the course of conversation, the wonderful dis- 
covery which our great savant, M. Curie, had 
just made, a discovery that was likely to revolu- 
tionize science. The Shah was extremely inter- 
ested in my story and repeatedly expressed a 
desire to be shown the precious magic stone. 
Professor Curie was informed accordingly and, in 
spite of his stress of work, agreed to come to the 
filysee Palace Hotel and give an exhibition. 
As, however, complete darkness was needed for 
radium to be admired in all its brilliancy, I had 
with endless trouble persuaded the King of Kings 
to come down to one of the hotel cellars arranged 
for the purpose. At the appointed time, His 
Majesty and all his suite proceeded to the under- 
ground apartment in question. Professor Curie 
closed the door, switched off the electric light and 
uncovered his specimen of radium, when sud- 
denly a shout of terror, resembling at one and 
the same time the roar of a bull and the yell of 

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a man who is being murdered, rang out, followed 
by hundreds of similar cries. . . . Amid general 
excitement and consternation, we flung ourselves 
upon the electric switches, turned on the lights 
and beheld a strange sight : in the midst of the 
prostrate Persians stood the Shah, his arms 
clinging to the neck of his howling grand vizier, 
his round pupils dilated to their rims, while he 
shouted, at the top of his voice, in Persian : 

" Come away ! Come away ! " 

The switching on of the light calmed this mad 
anguish as though by magic. Realizing the 
disappointment which he had caused M. Curie, he 
tried to offer him a decoration by way of com- 
pensation ; but the austere man of science thought 
fit to decline it. 

The instinctive dread of darkness and solitude 
was so keen in the Persian monarch that he 
required his bedroom to be filled during the 
night with light and sound. Accordingly, every 
evening, as soon as he had lain down and closed 
his eyes, the members of his suite gathered 
round his bed, lit all the candles and exchanged 
their impressions aloud, while young nobles of 
the court, relieving one another in pairs, con- 
scientiously patted his arms and legs with little 
light, sharp, regular taps. The King of Kings 
imagined that he was in this way keeping death 
at a distance, if perchance it should take a fancy 
to visit him in his sleep . . . and the extraordinary 
thing is that he did sleep, notwithstanding all 
this massage, light and noise. 
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THE SHAH OF PERSIA 



The need which he felt of having people con- 
stantly around him, and of reproducing the 
atmosphere of his distant country wherever he 
fixed his temporary residence, was reflected in 
the picturesque and singularly animated aspect 
which the hotel or palace at which he elected 
to stay assumed soon after his installation. It 
was promptly transformed into a vast, exotic 
caravanserai, presenting the appearance of a 
French fair combined with that of an eastern 
bazaar. The house was taken possession of by 
its new occupants from the kitchens, ruled over 
by the Persian master-cook, who prepared the 
monarch's dishes, to the attics, where the lower 
servants were accommodated. One saw nothing 
but figures in dark tunics and astrakhan caps, 
squatting in the passages and leaning over the 
staircases; along the corridors and in the halls, 
the shopkeepers had improvised stalls as at 
Teheran, in the hope that the monarch would 
let fall from his august lips in passing the " Je 
prends " that promised wealth. ... In the 
uncouth crowd which the desire of provoking and 
hearing that blissful phrase attracted to the 
waiting-rooms of the hotel, all the professions 
rubbed shoulders promiscuously : curiosity- 
dealers, unsuccessful inventors, collectors of 
autographs and postage-stamps, ruined finan- 
ciers, charlatans, unknown artists, 

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Their numbers had increased so greatly, on the 
faith of the legend that the Shah's treasures 
were inexhaustible, that a radical step had to be 
taken : when Muzaffr-ed-Din returned to Paris in 
1902 and 1905, the applicants for favours were 
forbidden to resume their little manoeuvre. 
Thereupon they changed their tactics : they sat 
down and wrote. 

I have kept these letters, which the Shah never 
read and which his secretary handed me regularly 
without having read them either. They arrived 
by each post in shoals. One could easily make 
a volume of them which would provide psycho- 
logists with a very curious study of the human 
soul and mind. Among those poor letters are 
many obscure, touching, comic, candid and 
cynical specimens; some also are absurd; others 
imprudent or sad. Most of them are signed ; and 
among the signatures of these requests for assist- 
ance are names which one is surprised to find 
there. ... I must be permitted to suppress these 
names and limit myself, in this mad orgy of 
epistolary literature, to reproducing the most 
typical of the letters that fell under my eyes. 

First, a few specimens of the " comic " note : 

" To His Majesty Muzaffr-ed-Din, Shah of 

Persia. 
" Your Majesty, 

" Knowing that you look kindly upon 
French requests, I venture to address these few 
lines to you. I am expecting my sister, Mile. 
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THE SHAH OF PERSIA 

Grampel, who has a situation in Russia; as she 
is ill, I would like her to remain in France. For 
us to live together, I should have to start a 
business with a capital of 3,000 to 5,000 francs, 
which I do not possess and which I cannot 
possibly find. I am 58 years of age. 

" In the hope that you will lend a favourable 
ear to my request, I am, 

" Your Majesty's most humble servant, 

" Madame M. 

" P.S. — In gratitude, with Your Majesty's per- 
mission, I would place a sign representing Your 
Majesty over the shop-front." 

" Sire, 

" The feeling that prompts me to write to 
you, O noble King, is the love which I feel for 
your country. I will come straight to the point : 
I will ask you, O Majesty, if I, a plain French 
subject, may have a post of some kind in your 
ideal kingdom. 

" Dentist I am ; a dentist I would remain, in 
Your Majesty's service. All my life long, you 
would be assured of my complete devotion. 

" A future Persian dentist to his future king. 

" P. J. L. 

" Pray, Sire, address the reply to the poste 
restante at Post-office No. 54." 

" Great Shah, 

" This missive which I have the honour 

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of addressing to Your Majesty is to tell you that I 
and my friends Messieurs Jules Brunei and Abel 
Chenet have the honour of offering you four 
bottles of champagne and two bottles of claret. 

" In exchange, may we beg for the Order of 
the Sun and Lion, which it would give us great 
pleasure to receive and which we hope that Your 
Majesty will confer upon us ? We are French 
citizens and old soldiers. 

" We wish you constant good health and 
prosperity for your country, Persia. You can 
send your servant to fetch the bottles. 

44 We have the honour to greet you, and we 
remain your very humble servants, crying : 

" * Long live H.M. Muzaffr-ed-Din and long live 

Persia ! ' 

" A. W." 

Thorigny (on my way home), 27 August, 1902. 

" Your Majesty, 

44 Yesterday, Tuesday, I was in Paris, 
waiting to have the pleasure of seeing you leave 
your hotel. That pleasure was not vouchsafed me. 

44 But, on the other hand, a ring set with a 
diamond, which I was taking to be repaired, was 
stolen from me by a pickpocket. 

44 This ring was the only diamond which my 
wife possessed. In consequence of the theft, she 
now possesses none. 

44 I put myself the question whether I could 
not indict you before a French court, as being the 
direct cause of the theft. 



THE SHAH OF PERSIA 

" I find nothing in our French law-books likely 
to decide in my favour. 

" And so I prefer to come and beseech you to 
redress the involuntary injury which you have 
done me. 

" A choice stone, which I should have set as a 
ring, would make good all the damage which I 
have suffered. 

" I am well aware that you must have numerous 
and various requests for assistance. This is 
not one of them. 

" But I should be infinitely grateful to you if 
you would understand that, but for your coming 
to Paris, I should not have been robbed, and if 
you would kindly send me a choice stone to 
replace the one stolen from me. 

" Will Your Majesty pray receive the homage 
of my most profound respect? 

"G. P., 
" attorney -at-law, 
" Barbezieux (Gironde), France" 

" To His Majesty Muzaffr-ed-Din, Shah of 
Persia, Ely see Palace Hotel, Paris. 

" I eagerly congratulate His Majesty on 
the great honour which he has paid the French 
people by making a long stay in the great inter- 
national city. And I take advantage of this 
occasion to beg His Majesty to initiate a general 
convocation of all the sovereigns of the whole world 
for next month, in order to open a subscription 
list for the construction of an unprecedented 

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fairy-palace (new style and copying some of its 
details from planetary nature and its marvels), to 
be known as the Sovereign Palace of the Universal 
Social Congress, symbolizing the whole universe 
by States, containing the apartments of every 
sovereign in the world, and situated near the Bois 
de Boulogne. 

" I consider that His Majesty would thus have 
a good opportunity of securing a great page in 
history. 

" Hoping for a just appreciation and entire 
success, I send His Majesty the Shah of 
Persia, the assurance of my greatest respect, 
together with my perfect consideration, and 
I am 

" the most humble Architect-general of the 
Universal Confederation of Social Peace, 

" at His Majesty's service, 

" C. M." 

Now comes the " touching " note : 

" A little provincial work-girl, who has not 
the honour of being known to His Majesty, 
kneels down before him and, with her hands 
folded, entreats him to make her a present 
of a sum of 1,200 francs, which would enable 
her to marry the young man she loves. . . . Oh, 
what blessings he would receive, day after day, 
for that kind action ! 

" I beg the Shah to forgive me for any offence 
that this letter may commit against etiquette, 
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THE SHAH OF PERSIA 

with which I am not acquainted. I kiss His 
Majesty's hands and I am 

" his most humble and obedient little servant, 

" A. C." 

Lastly, is not the following letter an exquisitely 
candid specimen of the proper art of " sponging " ? 

" Your Majesty, 

" As you are a friend of France, I propose 
to write to you as a friend ; you will permit me 
to do so, I hope. 

" The question is this : I have the greatest 
longing to set eyes on the sea ; my husband has 
a few days' holiday in the course of October; I 
should like to make the most of it and to go away 
for a little while. 

" Our means are very small indeed : my 
husband has only 105 francs a month ; and I 
could not do what I wish without encroaching 
on my housekeeping-money, which is calculated 
down to the last centime. 

" I therefore remembered your generosity and 
thought that you might be touched by my request. 

" You would not like a little Paris woman to be 
prevented from enjoying the sight of the sea, 
which you have doubtless often admired. 

" You are very fond of travelling ; you will 
understand my curiosity. 

" Will Your Majesty deign to accept the ex- 
pression of my most respectful and distinguished 
sentiments ? 

" Mme. A. A." 
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A worthy woman sent this note : 

" To His Majesty the King of Persia. 

" My name is the Widow Bressoy, aged 82. 
I have lost my husband and two of my daughters, 
I am unable to walk and I owe a quarter's rent. 
My grandmother washed for His Majesty King 
Louis-Philippe of France; H.R.H. the Due 
d'Aumale used to help me with my rent; show 
your kind heart and do as he did. Should you 
come to the church of Ste. Elisabeth du Temple 
on Sunday next, I should be very glad to see you. 
" I am 

" Your Majesty's most respectful servant, 
" Widow Bressoy." 



The following original proposal came from a 
well-known business-house : 

" Sir, 

" After the Monza crime and the attempt 
of which you were the object yesterday, and in 
view of the solemnities during which you might 
be too much exposed to danger, I consider it 
my duty to bring to your notice certain particu- 
lars which might be of the greatest use to you and 
those about your person. 

" I refer to secret waistcoats of my own 
manufacture, which I am able to offer to you and 
which are absolutely warranted. 

" The waistcoat which I am offering is proof 
08 






THE SHAH OF PERSIA 

against a revolver-bullet and, of course, against 
a sword or dagger. 

"As an absolute guarantee, I can assure you 
as follows by experiment : the fabric consists of 
a very close and solidly-riveted coat of steel mail ; 
the shape of the links has been specially studied 
so as to allow of great suppleness, while preserving 
the greatest solidity. 

" It resists the 12 mm. bullet of the regulation 
revolver, 1874 pattern. 

" I have specimens at which bullets were fired 
at a distance of four yards; they give an exact 
idea of the resisting-power. 

" The coat of mail is covered with silk or satin, 
which gives the appearance of an ordinary 
garment and does not for a moment suggest its 
special object. 

" The waistcoat protects the back, the chest, 
the stomach and is continued down to the 
abdomen. 

" I must add that the waistcoat is very easy 
to wear and in no way inconvenient, on condition 
that I be supplied with the necessary measure- 
ments or, better still, with an ordinary day- 
waistcoat of the wearer's, fitted to his size. 

" Hoping in the circumstances to be of some 
use to you, I beg Your Majesty to accept the 
expression of my most profound respect. 

" R. G." 

Let us pass to the children. Less unreasonable 

than their parents, they content themselves with 
H2 99 



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asking for postage-stamps, bicycles or auto- 
graphs. 

First comes a public schoolboy, quite proud of 
incidentally showing that he knows his classics : 

" Sire, 

" When you first set foot on French soil, 
you were pleased to take notice, at Maubeuge 
railway-station, of a young public schoolboy, 
who, not knowing your quality, was only able to 
give you a very respectful greeting. That young 
schoolboy was myself. 

" I realized the extent of the signal honour 
which Your Majesty did me, when I learnt that 
I had received it from the sovereign of Persia, the 
country of Xerxes and Darius, the land whose 
children have filled the world with the fame of 
their exploits. And, descending the course of 
the ages, reverting to the lessons of my masters, 
I hailed in you ' the wise and enlightened monarch 
whose reign holds forth so many hopes.' 

" Sire, I shall never forget that moment, 
which will probably be the only one of its kind 
in my life ; but, if I were permitted to express a 
wish, I would humbly confess to Your Majesty 
that my greatest happiness would be to possess 
a collection of Persian postage-stamps, as an 
official token of the honour which you conde- 
scended to do me. 

" Deign, Sire, etc. 
" R. W., 
" pupil at the Lycee Faidherbe, Lille 

" (on my holidays)." 
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THE SHAH OF PERSIA 

The next has not yet learnt the beauties of 
literary style; he has less notions of form, but 
his ambition is more far-reaching : 



" Your Majesty, 

" I begin by begging your pardon for my 
presumption; but I have heard everybody say, 
and I read in the paper, that Your Majesty is 
greatly interested in motor-cars. I therefore 
thought that you must also have ridden the 
bicycle, which you now, no doubt, care less for; 
and it occurred to me that, if you happened to 
have an old one put by, Your Majesty might do 
me the honour to give it to me. 

" Papa and my big brother Jean go out riding 
on their bicycles and I am left at home with 
mamma, because I have not a machine and they 
cannot afford to buy me one. 

" I should be so proud to have a bicycle given 
me by Your Majesty. 

" I shall not tell papa that I am writing to 
Your Majesty, because he would laugh at me, and 
I shall take three sous from my purse for the 
stamp on this letter. 

" I pray God not to let those wicked anarchists 
attack Your Majesty, to whom I offer my pro- 
found respect. 

" Maurice Lelandais, 
" aged 9 1 years, 
" living with his family, Faubourg Bizienne, 

Guerande (Loire-inferieure)" 

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Another schoolboy : 

" Verviers, 3 September. 

" Great King of Persia in France, 
" Sir, 

" I have read in the paper that you are 
very rich and have lots of gold. 

" My father promised to give me a gold watch 
for my first communion next year, if I worked 
hard at school. 

" I did study, Sir, for I was second ; and the first 
is thirteen years old ; and I am only eleven and a 
half. To prove this to you, here is my prize-list. 
Now, when I ask if I shall have my watch, my 
father answers that he has no money and he 
wants it all for bread. It is not right, Sir, to 
deceive me like that. But I hope that you will 
give me what they refuse. Do me that great 
pleasure. I will pray for you. 

" I love you very much. 

" M. J." 

Here is an artless request from a little English 
girl : 

" Your Majesty, 

" I hear that you are taking a holiday in 
Paris and I think that this must be the best time 
to write to you, for you will not be so busy as in 
your own kingdom. 

" First of all, I want to tell you that I am an 
English girl, fourteen years of age, and my name 
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THE SHAH OF PERSIA 

is Mary. I love collecting autographs and so 
far I have been very lucky and have some of 
celebrities, but I have none of a king, except 
Menelik, who is a black majesty. 

" Now, I should ever so much like to have a 
few lines in your handwriting. 

" Do be so very kind as to write to me. 

" Mary St. J." 



All these efforts of the imagination, all these 
prodigies of ingenuity were wasted. ... As I have 
said, the Shah took no notice whatever of the 
six hundred and odd begging letters of different 
kinds addressed to him during his visits to 
France. Pleasure-loving and capricious, careful 
of his own peace of mind, he dreaded and avoided 
emotions of all kinds. . . . Nevertheless, he was 
not wholly insensible to pity nor indifferent to 
the charms of the fair sex. At certain times, 
he was capable of sudden movements of magnifi- 
cent generosity : he would readily give a diamond 
to some humble workwoman whom he met on 
his way; he would, of his own accord, hand a 
bank-note to a beggar; he freely distributed 
Persian gold-pieces stamped with his effigy. 

He would also fall a victim to sudden amatory 
fancies that sometimes caused me moments of 
cruel embarrassment. I remember that, one 
afternoon, when we were driving in the Bois de 
Boulogne, near the lakes, Muzaffr-ed-Din noticed 

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a view which he admired, ordered the carriages 
to stop and expressed a desire to take some 
snapshots of the charming spot. We at once 
alighted. A little farther, a group of smart ladies 
sat engaged in animated conversation, without 
taking the smallest heed of our presence, The 
Shah, seeing them, asked me to beg them to 
come closer, so that he might photograph them. 
Although I did not know them, I went up and 
spoke to them and, with every apology, explained 
the sovereign's whim to them. Greatly amused, 
they consented with a good grace. The Shah 
took the photograph, smiled to the ladies and, 
when the operation was over, called me to him 
again : 

" Paoli," he said, " they are very pretty, very 
nice ; go and ask them if they would like to come 
back with me to Teheran." 

Imagine my face ! I had to employ all the 
resources of my eloquence to make the King of 
Kings understand that you cannot take a woman 
to Teheran as you would a piano, a cinemato- 
graph or a motor-car, and that you cannot say 
of her, as of an article in a shop, " Je prends." 

I doubt whether he really grasped the force of 
my arguments, for, some time after, when we 
were at the Opera, in the box of the President of 
the Republic, we perceived with dismay that His 
Persian Majesty, instead of watching the perform- 
ance on the stage — consisting of that exquisite 
ballet Coppelia, with some of our prettiest 
dancers taking part in it — kept his opera-glass 
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THE SHAH OF PERSIA 

obstinately fixed on a member of the audience 
in the back row of the fourth tier, giving signs 
of manifest excitement as he did so. I was 
beginning to wonder with anxiety whether he 
had caught sight of some " suspicious face," 
when the court minister, in whose ear he had 
whispered a few words, came over to me and said, 
with an air of embarrassment : 

" His Majesty feels a profound admiration for 
a lady up there . . . Do you see ? . . . The fourth 
seat from the right. . . . His Majesty would be 
obliged if you would enable him to make her 
acquaintance. . . . You can tell her, if you like, 
as an inducement, that my sovereign will invite 
her to go back with him to Teheran." 
Again ! 

Although this sort of errand did not fall 
within the scope of my instructions, I regarded 
the worthy Oriental's idea as so comical that I 
asked one of my detectives, who, dressed to the 
nines, was keeping guard outside the presidential 
box, whether he would care to go upstairs and, 
if possible, convey the flattering invitation to the 
object of the imperial flame. My Don Juan by 
proxy assented and set out on his mission. 

The Shah's impatience increased from moment 
to moment. The last act had begun, when I saw 
my inspector return alone and looking very 
sheepish : 

" Well," I asked, " what did she say ? " 
" She boxed my ears ! " 

The sovereign, when the grand vizier conveved 

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this grievous news to him, knitted his bushy 
eyebrows, declared that he was tired and ordered 
his carriage. 

The days of Muzaffr-ed-Din were full of engage- 
ments. Rising very early in the morning, he 
devoted long hours to his toilet, to his prayers, 
and to his political conversations with the grand 
vizier. He worked as little as possible, but saw 
many people; he liked giving audiences to 
doctors and purveyors. He always had his meals 
alone, in accordance with Persian etiquette, and 
was served at one time with European dishes, 
which were better suited to his impaired digestive 
organs, and at another with Persian fare, con- 
sisting of slices of Ispahan melon, with white 
and flavoursome flesh; of the national dish 
called pilaf tiobab, in which meat, cut up and 
mixed with delicate spices, lay spread on a bed 
of rice just scalded, underdone and crisp; of 
hard-boiled eggs and young marrows; or else 
of stilo grill, represented by scallops of mutton 
soaked in aromatic vinegar and cooked over a 
slow fire of pinewood embers ; lastly, of aubergine 
fritters, of which he was very fond. I am bound, 
for that matter, to say that Persian cooking, 
which I had many opportunities of tasting, is 
delicious and that the dishes which I have 
named would have done honour to any Parisian 
bill of fare. 

After rising from table, Muzaffr-ed-Din 
generally devoted an hour to taking a nap, after 
which we went out either for a drive round 
106 



THE SHAH OF PERSIA 

the Bois or to see the shops or the Paris 
sights. To tell the truth, we hardly ever knew 
beforehand what the sovereign's plans were. 
He seemed to take a mischievous delight in 
altering the afternoon programme and route 
which I had worked out, with his approval, in 
the morning. Thanks to his whims, I lived in a 
constant state of alarm. 

" I want to see some museums to-day," he 
would say at eleven o'clock. " We will start at 
two." 

I at once informed the minister of fine-arts, who 
told off his officials to receive him ; I telephoned 
to the military governor of Paris to send an escort. 

At three o'clock, we were still waiting. At 
last, just about four, he appeared, with a look 
of indifference and care on his face, and told me 
that he would much prefer to go for a drive in the 
Bois de Boulogne. 

One day, after he had spent the morning in 
listening to a chapter of the life of Napoleon I., 
he beckoned to me on his way to lunch : 

" M. Paoli," he said, " I want to go to the 
Chateau de Fontainebleau to-day." 

" Well, Sir, you see . . ." 

" Quick, quick ! " 

There was no arguing the matter. I rushed to 
the telephone, warned the panic-stricken P.L.M. 
Co. that we must have a special train at all costs, 
and informed the keeper of the palace and the 
dumbfoundered sub-prefect of our imminent 
arrival at Fontainebleau. 

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MY ROYAL CLIENTS 

When the Shah, still under the influence of 
his morning's course of reading, stepped from the 
carriage, two hours later, before the gate of the 
palace, he was seized with a strange freak : he 
demanded that the dragoons who had formed 
his escort from the station should dismount and 
enter the famous Cour des Adieux after him. 
Next, he made them fall into line in the middle 
of the great quadrangle, leant against the steps, 
looked at them long and fondly, muttered a few 
sentences in Persian and then disappeared inside 
the palace. 

Greatly alarmed, we thought at first that he 
had gone mad ; at last we understood : he had 
been enacting the scene in which the Emperor 
takes leave of his grenadiers. It may have been 
very flattering for the dragoons; I doubt if it 
was quite so flattering for Napoleon. 

His visit to the Louvre also lingers in my 
memory among the more amusing episodes of his 
stay in Paris. M. Leygues, who was at that time 
minister of fine-arts and in this capacity did the 
honours of the museum to the Shah, had resolved 
carefully to avoid showing our guest the Persian 
room, fearing lest the King of Kings, who perhaps 
did not grasp the importance of the priceless 
collection which Mme. Dieulafoy and M. Morgan 
had brought back with them, should show a keen 
vexation at finding himself in the presence of 
jewels and mosaics which he might have preferred 
to see in his own country. 

The minister, therefore, conducted him through 
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THE SHAH OF PERSIA 

the picture- and sculpture-galleries, trying to 
bewilder his mind and tire his legs, so that he 
might declare his curiosity satisfied as soon as 
possible. 

Lo and behold, however, the Shah suddenly 
said : 

" Take me to the Persian room ! " 

There was no evading the command. M. 
Leygues, obviously worried, whispered an order 
to the chief attendant and suggested to the Shah 
that he should take a short rest before continuing 
his inspection. The Shah agreed. 

Meantime, in the Persian room, keepers and 
attendants hurriedly cleared away the more 
valuable ornaments and mosaics, so that Muzaffr- 
ed-Din should not feel any too cruel regrets ; and, 
at last, the King of Kings, far from revealing any 
disappointment, declared himself delighted to 
find in Paris so well-arranged a collection of 
curious remains of ancient Persian architecture 
and art. And he added, slyly : 

" When I have a museum at Teheran, I shall 
see that we have a French room." 

For that matter, he was often capable of ad- 
ministering a sort of snub when we thought that 
we were providing him with a surprise. For 
instance, one day, when, with a certain self- 
conceit, I showed him our three camels in the 
Jardin d'Acclimatation : 

" I own nine thousand ! " he replied, with a 
scornful smile. 

Our zoological gardens did not interest him : 

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he only twice really enjoyed himself there to my 
knowledge. The first time was when, at his own 
request, he was allowed to witness the repugnant 
sight of a boa-constrictor devouring a live rabbit. 
This produced, the next morning, the following 
letter from " a working milliner," which I print 
" with all faults " : 

" Monsieur Le Chah, 

" You have been to the Jardin d'Aclima- 
tation (sic) and watched the boa-constrictor 
eating a live rabbit. This was very interesting, 
so you said. Ugh ! How could the King of 
Kings, an excellency, a magesty (sic), find pleasure 
in the awful torments of that poor rabbit ? I hate 
people who like going to bull-fights. Cruelty and 
cowardice go hand in hand. Are you one of the 
company, monsieur le Chah ? " 

The second time that he seemed to amuse 
himself was on the occasion of a wedding-dance 
that was being held in a room next to that in 
which he had stopped to take tea. On hearing 
the music, he suddenly rose and opened the door 
leading to the ball-room. The appearance of the 
devil in person would not have produced a 
greater confusion than that of this potentate, 
wearing his high-peaked astrakhan cap and 
covered with diamonds. But he, without the 
least uneasiness, went the round of the couples, 
shook hands with the bride and bridegroom, gave 

them pieces of Persian gold money and made his 
110 



THE SHAH OF PERSIA 

excuses to the bride for not having a necklace 
about him to offer her. ... I was waiting for him 
to invite her to accompany him to Teheran : 
the husband's presence no doubt frightened 
him ! 

He seldom left his rooms at night. Sometimes, 
he went to circus-performances or an extrava- 
ganza or musical play; he preferred, however, 
to devote his evenings to more domestic enjoy- 
ments ; he loved the pleasures of home life : 
sometimes, he played with his little sons, " the 
little shahs," as they were called, nice little boys 
of seven to thirteen ; at other times, he indulged 
in his favourite games, chess and billiards. He 
played these with his grand vizier, his court 
minister, or myself. The stakes at billiards were 
generally twenty francs, sometimes a hundred. 
We did our best to lose, for, if we had the bad 
luck to win, he would show his ill-temper by 
throwing up the game and retiring into a corner, 
where his servants lit his great Persian pipe for 
him, the kaljan, a sort of Turkish narghileh, 
filled with a scented tobacco called tombeki. 
Often, also, to console himself for his mortification 
at billiards, he called for music. I then heard 
songs behind the closed hangings, harsh, strange, 
and also very sweet songs, accompanied on the 
piano or the violin : it was a sort of evocation 
of the east in a modern frame ; and the contrast, 
I must say, was rather pleasing. 



Ill 



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6 

The Shah and I grew accustomed to each other, 
little by little, and became the best of friends. . . 
He refused to go anywhere without me ; I took 
part in the drives, in the games at billiards, in 
the concerts, in all the journeys. We went to 
Vichy, to Vittel, to Contrexeville. It was here, 
at Contrexeville, where he had come for the cure, 
that I saw him for the last time. His eccentri- 
cities, his whims and his diamonds had produced 
the usual effect on the peaceful population of 
the town. 

A few days after his arrival, hearing that H.I.H. 
the Grand-duchess Vladimir of Russia had taken 
up her quarters at an hotel near his own, he 
hastened to call and pay his respects and de- 
parted from his habits to the length of inviting 
her to luncheon. 

On the appointed day, the grand-duchess, 
alighting from her carriage before the residence 
of her host, found the Shah waiting for her on 
the threshold in a grey frock-coat, with a rose in 
his button-hole. He ceremoniously led her by 
the hand to the dining-room, making her walk 
through his rooms, the floors of which he had 
had covered with the wonderful Kashan carpets 
that accompanied him on all his journeys. The 
princess, charmed with these delicate attentions 
on the great man's part, was beginning to con- 
gratulate herself on the pleasant surprise which 
Persian civilization had caused her, when — we 
112 



THE SHAH OF PERSIA 

had hardly sat down to table — a chamberlain 
went up to the King of Kings, bowed low and 
handed him a gold salver, on which lay a queer- 
looking and, at first, indescribable object. . . . 
The Shah, without blinking, carelessly put out 
his hand, took the thing between his fingers and, 
with an easy and familiar movement, inserted 
it in his jaw : it was a set of false teeth ! Imagine 
the consternation ! 

The grand-duchess, as may be imagined, re- 
tained an unforgettable memory of this lunch, 
the more so as the Shah, perhaps in order to wipe 
out any unpleasant impression that might linger 
in her mind, did a very gallant thing : the next 
day, the Princess Vladimir received a bale of 
Persian carpets of inestimable value, accompanied 
by a letter from the grand vizier begging her, 
in the name of his sovereign, to accept this 
present, His Majesty having declared that he 
would allow no other feet to tread carpets on 
which Her Imperial Highness's had rested. 

I, less fortunate than the grand-duchess, never, 
alas, succeeded in obtaining possession of the 
one and only carpet which Muzaffr-ed-Din had 
deigned — quite spontaneously — to offer me. 

" My ministers will see that you get it," he 
said. 

When the day of his departure for Persia drew 
near, I thought that it would be wise to ask the 
court minister for my carpet in my most respectful 
manner. 

" Oh," he replied, " does it belong to you ? 
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The only thing is that it has been packed up, by 
mistake, with the others. If you want it, they 
can give it to you in the train." 

As I was to accompany our guest as far as the 
German frontier, I waited until we had left 
Vichy and discreetly repeated my request at the 
first stop. 

" Certainly," said the minister, " you shall have 
it at the next station." 

I was beginning to feel uneasy. At the follow- 
ing stopping-place, there was no sign of a carpet. 
We were approaching the frontier, where my 
mission ended. I therefore resolved to apply 
to the minister of public works. 

" Your excellency . . ." 

" Your carpet ? " he broke in. " Quite right, 
my dear M. Paoli. The orders have been given ; 
and you shall have it when you leave us at the 
other station." 

But here again, alas, nothing ! And, as I 
complained to a third excellency of this strange 
piece of neglect : 

" It's an omission. Come with us as far as 
Strassburg, where you will receive satisfaction." 

At this rate, they would have carried me, by 
easy stages, to Teheran. ... I therefore gave up 
all hopes of my carpet. And, taking leave of 
these amiable functionaries, I heard the good 
Shah's voice crying in the distance : 

" Good-bye, Paoli, worthy Paoli ! Till our 
next meeting ! " 

I never saw him again. 
114 



CHAPTER IV 

THE TSAR NICHOLAS II. AND THE TSARITSA 
ALEXANDRA FEODOROVNA 



I had just reached the Ministry of the Interior 
and was entering my office, when a messenger 
came up to me and said, solemnly : 

"The prime minister would like to speak to 
you at once, sir." 

When a public official is sent for by his chief, 1 
the first thought that flashes across his brain is 
that of disgrace; and he instinctively makes a 
rapid and silent examination of conscience to 
quiet his anxious mind, unless indeed he but 
ends by alarming it. Nevertheless, I admit 
that, when I received this message, I took it 
philosophically. The prime minister, at that 
time, was M. Waldeck-Rousseau. It is not my 
business here to pass judgment on the politician ; 
and I have retained a most pleasant recollection 
of the man. To attractions more purely intel- 
lectual he added a certain geniality of disposition. 
He looked upon events and upon life itself from 

1 In France, the premiership is very often held in con- 
junction with the portfolio of the Interior or Home Office* 
— Translator's Note. 

12 115 



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the point of view of a more or less disillusionized 
dilettante ; and this made him at once satirical, 
indulgent and obliging. He honoured me with a 
kindly friendship, notwithstanding the fact that 
he used to reproach me, in his jesting way, with 
becoming too much of a reactionary from my 
contact with the monarchs of Europe, and that I 
once took his breath away by telling him that 
I had dined with the Empress Eugenie at Cap 
Martin. 

" A republican official at the Empress's table ! " 
he cried. " You're the only man, my dear Paoli, 
who would dare to do such a thing. . . . And 
you're the only one," he added, slyly, "in whom 
we would stand it ! " 

For all that, when I entered his room on this 
particular morning, I was struck with his 
thoughtful air; and my surprise increased still 
further when I saw him, after shaking hands 
with me, carefully shut the door and give a 
glance to make sure that we were quite alone. 

" You must not be astonished at these pre- 
cautions," he began. " I have some news to 
tell you which, for reasons which you will under- 
stand as soon as you hear what the news is, must 
be kept secret as long as possible . . . and you 
know that the walls of a ministerial office have 
very sharp ears. . . . This is the news : I have 
just heard from the Russian ambassador and 
from Delcasse that the negotiations which have 
been on foot between the two governments in 
view of a second visit of the Tsar and Tsaritsa 
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NICHOLAS II. AND THE TSARITSA 

are at last completed. Their Imperial Majesties 
will pay an official visit of three days to France. 
They may come to Paris; in any case, they 
will stay at the Chateau de Compiegne, where 
the sovereigns will take up their quarters, 
together with the President of the Republic 
and all of us. They will arrive from Russia 
by sea; they will land at Dunkirk on the 
18th of September; and from there they will go 
straight by rail to Compiegne. The festivities 
will end with a visit to Rheims and a review of 
our eastern frontier troops at Betheny Camp." 
The minister paused, and then continued : 
" And now I must ask you to listen to me very 
carefully. I want no accident nor unpleasant 
incident of any kind to occur during this visit. 
The Tsar has been made to believe that his safety 
and the Tsaritsa's run the greatest risks through 
their coming to France. It is important that we 
should give the lie in a striking fashion — as we 
did in 1896 — to the bad reputation which our 
enemies outside are trying to give us. They are 
simply working against the alliance ; and we have 
the greatest political interest in defeating their 
machinations. We must, therefore, take every 
necessary measure accordingly; and I am en- 
trusting this task to Cavard, the chief of the 
detective-service, Hennion, his colleague, and 
yourself. You are to divide the work among 
you. Cavard will control the whole business and 
settle the details ; Hennion, with his remarkable 
activity, will see that they are carried out and 

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MY ROYAL CLIENTS 

devote himself to the protection of the Tsar; 
and I have reserved for you the most enviable 
part of the task : I entrust the Empress to your 
special care." 

The Emperor Nicholas II. and the Empress 
Alexandra were very nearly the only members 
of the Russian imperial family whom I did not 
yet know. At the time when they made their 
first journey to Paris, to celebrate the conclusion 
of the Franco-Russian alliance, I was in Sweden 
as the guest of King Oscar, His Majesty having 
most graciously invited me to spend a period of 
sick-leave with him; and it was on the deck of 
his yacht, at the end of a dinner which he gave 
me in the Bay of Stockholm, that the news of the 
triumphal reception of the Russian sovereigns 
had come to gladden my patriotism and his 
faithful affection for the country which, through 
his Bernadotte blood, was also his. 

On the other hand, I had repeatedly had the 
honour of attending the grand-dukes; and I was 
attached to the person of the Tsarevitch George 
at the time of his two stays on the Cote d'Azur, 
in the villa which he occupied at the Cap d'Ail, 
facing the sea, among the orange-trees and 
thymes. I had beheld the sad and silent tragedy 
enacted in the mind of that pale and suffering 
young prince, heir to a mighty empire, whom 
death had already marked for its own . . . and 
who knew it ! He knew it, but submitted 
to fate's decree without a murmur. Resigning 

himself to the inevitable, he strove to enjoy the 
118 




THE TSAR, THE TZARITSA, AND THE TSARKVITCH. 



IPagC us. 



NICHOLAS II. AND THE TSARITSA 

few last pleasures that life still held for him : 
the sunlight, the flowers and the sea; he sought 
to beguile the anxiety of his suite and of 
his doctors by assuming a mask of playful good- 
humour and an appearance of youthful hope and 
zest. Lastly, at the same Villa des Terrasses, 
I had known the Dowager-Empress Marie Feodo- 
rovna, whom her great green-and-gold railway- 
train had brought from Russia with her children, 
the Grand-duchess Xenia and the Grand-duke 
Michael, at the first news of a slight relapse on 
the part of the illustrious patient. 

For two long months, I took part in the inner 
life of that little court; and, more than once, I 
detected the anguish of the mother stealthily 
trying to read the secret of her son's hectic eyes, 
peering at his pale face, watching for his hoarse, 
hacking cough, as he walked beside her, or dined 
opposite her, or played at cards with his sister, 
or, with his long and too-white hands, stroked 
the head of his lively and slender Russian 
hound, Moustique. 

These memories were already four years old. 
.... How much had happened since ! . . . . 
The Tsarevitch George had gone to the Caucasus 
to die; the Franco-Russian alliance, the realiza- 
tion of which was contemplated in the interviews 
at the Cap d'Ail between the Dowager-Empress 
and Baron de Mohrenheim, the Russian ambas- 
sador in Paris, had become an accomplished 
fact. 

This new visit of the allied sovereigns repre- 

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MY ROYAL CLIENTS 

sented an important trump in the game of our 
policy as against the rest of Europe : it supplied 
the answer which we felt called upon to 
make, from time to time, to those who were 
anxiously awaiting the least event capable of 
disturbing the Franco-Russian alliance, with a 
view to exploiting any such event in favour 
of a rupture. 

The reader, therefore, will easily imagine the 
importance which M. Waldeck-Rousseau attached 
to his watchword, " No accident nor incident of 
any kind ! " 

The measures of protection with which a sove- 
reign is surrounded when he happens to be 
Emperor of Russia are of a more complicated and 
delicate character than those adopted in the case 
of any other monarch. Fiercely guarded by his 
own police, whose almost brutal zeal, tending as it 
often does to offend and exasperate, may prove 
a danger rather than a protection, the Tsar is, 
unknown to himself, enveloped by the majority 
of those who hover round him in a network of 
silent intrigues which keep up a latent spirit of 
distrust and dismay. 

It does not fall within my present scope nor 
do I here intend to frame an indictment against 
the Russian police. For that matter, tragic 
incidents and regrettable scandals enough have 
revealed the sinister and intricate underhand 
methods of that occult force in such a way 
as to leave no doubt of its nature in men's 
minds. I will content myself with confessing 
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NICHOLAS II. AND THE TSARITSA 

that, although the numberless anonymous letters 
which we received at the Ministry of the Interior 
before the Tsar's arrival mostly failed to excite 
us, the appearance, on the other hand, of certain 
obnoxious persons, who came to concert with us 
as to " the measures to be taken," nearly always 
resulted in awakening secret terrors within us. 
... I became acquainted, in this way, with some 
of the celebrated figures of the Russian secret 
police : the famous Harting was one of their 
number; and it is also possible that I may have 
consorted, without knowing it, with the mysterious 
Azeff. My clearest recollection of my relations 
with these gentry — always excepting M. Raskow- 
sky, the chief of the Russian police in Paris — is 
that we thought it wise to keep them under 
observation and to hide from them, as far as 
possible, the measures which we proposed to 
adopt for the safety of their sovereigns ! 

As I have shown above, the responsibility of 
organizing those measures on the occasion of the 
Tsar's journey in 1901 was entrusted to M. Cavard, 
the head of the French political police; but the 
honour of ensuring their proper performance 
was due above all to M. Hennion, his chief lieu- 
tenant, who has now succeeded him. In point of 
fact, M. Cavard's long and brilliant administrative 
career had not prepared him for such rough and 
tiring tasks. An excellent official, this honest 
man, whose high integrity it is a pleasure to me to 
recognize, had a better grasp of the sedentary 
work of the offices. Hennion, on the contrary, 

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" knew his business " and possessed its special 
qualifications. Endowed with a remarkable spirit 
of initiative and an invariable coolness, eager, 
indefatigable and shrewd, fond of fighting, with a 
quick scent of danger, he was always seen in the 
breach and he knew how to be everywhere when 
wanted. This was an invaluable quality when 
the zone to be protected extended, as it did in this 
case, over a length of several hundred miles and 
embraced almost half France. 

Our measures consisted, first of all, in doubling 
the watch kept on foreigners living in France 
and notably on the Russian anarchists. The 
copious information which we possessed about 
their antecedents and their movements made 
our task an easy one. Paris, like every other 
large city in Europe, contains a pretty active 
focus of nihilism. This is made up mainly of 
students and of young women, who are generally 
more formidable than the men. Still, these revo- 
lutionary spirits always prefer theory to action; 
and they were consequently less to be feared 
than others who, on the pretext of seeing the 
festivities, might come from abroad charged 
with a criminal mission. 

We had, therefore, established observation- 
posts in all the frontier- stations, posts composed 
of officers who lost no time in shadowing the 
steps of any suspicious traveller. But, however 
minute our investigations might be, it was still 
possible for the threads of a plot to escape us; 
and we had to prepare ourselves against possible 
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surprises at places where it was known that the 
sovereigns were likely to be. A special watch had 
to be kept along the railways over which the 
imperial train would travel and in the streets 
through which the procession would pass. For 
this purpose, as usual, we divided the line from 
Dunkirk to Compiegne and from Compiegne to 
the frontier into sections and sub-sections, each 
placed under the command of the district commis- 
sary of police, who had under his orders the local 
police force and gendarmery, reinforced by the 
troops stationed in the department. Posted at 
intervals on either side of the line, at the entrance 
and issue of the tunnels, on and under the bridges, 
sentries, with loaded rifles, prevented any one 
from approaching and had orders to raise an 
alarm if they saw the least suspicious object 
lying on or near the rails. 

We also identified the tenants of all the houses 
situated either along the railway-line or in the 
streets through which our guests were likely to 
drive. As a matter of fact, what we most feared was 
the traditional outrage perpetrated or attempted 
from a window. On the other hand, we refused 
(contrary to what has been stated) to adopt the 
system employed by the Spanish, German and 
Italian police on the occasion of any visit from a 
sovereign, the system which consists in arresting 
all the " suspects " during the period of the royal 
guest's stay. This proceeding not only appeared 
to us needlessly vexatious, for it constitutes a 
flagrant attempt upon the liberty of the individual, 

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but we thought that, with our democracy, there 
was a danger of its alienating the sympathies of 
our population from our illustrious visitors. We 
had, therefore, to be content to forestall any 
possible catastrophes by other and less arbitrary 
means. 



Our vigilance was naturally concentrated with 
the greatest attention upon Compiegne. We 
sent swarms of police to beat the forest and search 
every copse and thicket; and the chateau itself 
was inspected from garret to basement by our 
most trusted detectives. These precautions, how- 
ever, seemed insufficient to our colleagues of the 
Russian police. A fortnight before the arrival 
of the sovereigns, one of them, taking us aside, 
said : 

" The cellars must be watched." 

" But it seems to us," we replied, " that we 
cannot very well do more than we are doing : 
they are visited every evening ; and there are men 
posted at all the doors." 

" Very good : but how do you know that your 
men will not be bribed and that the i terrorists ' 
will not succeed, unknown to you, in placing an 
explosive machine in some dark corner ? " 

" Then what do you suggest ? " 

" Put men upon whom you can rely, here and 
now, in each cellar, with instructions to remain 
there night and day until Their Majesties' 
departure. And, above all, see that they hold 
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no communication with the outside. They must 
prepare their own meals." 

The solution may have been ingenious, but we 
declined to entertain it : we considered, in point 
of fact, that it was unnecessary, two weeks before 
the coming of the Emperor and Empress, to 
condemn a number of respectable men to under- 
ground imprisonment, a form of torture which 
had not been inflicted on even the worst criminals 
for more than a century past. 

On the other hand, we mixed detectives 
with the large staff of workmen who were 
engaged in restoring the old chateau to its ancient 
splendour. The erstwhile imperial residence, 
which had stood empty since the war, now rose 
again from its graceful and charming past as 
though by the stroke of a fairy's wand. The 
authorities hastily collected the most sumptuous 
remains of the former furniture now scattered 
over our museums. Gradually, the deserted halls 
and abandoned bedrooms were once more filled, in 
the same places, with the same objects that had 
adorned them in days gone by. The apartments 
set aside for the Tsar and Tsaritsa were those 
once occupied by the Emperors Napoleon I. and 
Napoleon III. and the Empresses Marie-Louise 
and Eugenie. As we passed through them, our 
eyes were greeted by the wonderful Beauvais 
tapestries, of which the King of Prussia one day 
said that " no king's fortune was large enough 
to buy them; " we hesitated before treading on 
the exquisite Savonnerie carpets, with which 

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Louis XIV. had covered the floors of Versailles; 
in the Tsaritsa's boudoir we admired Marie- 
Louise's cheval-glass ; in her bedroom we found 
the proud arch-duchess's four-poster ; in Nicholas 
II. 's bedroom we discovered a relic : the bed of 
Napoleon I., the beautifully-carved mahogany 
bedstead in which the man whom a great his- 
torian called " that terrible antiquarian " and 
whom no battle had wearied, dreamt of the empire 
of Charlemagne. . . . Was it not a striking irony 
of fate that thus awarded the conqueror's pillow 
to the first promoter of peaceful arbitration ? 

While upholsterers, gardeners, carpenters, lock- 
smiths and painters were producing this amazing 
metamorphosis, the ministry was drawing up 
the programme of the rejoicings and calling in the 
aid of the greatest poets, the most illustrious 
artists, the prettiest and most talented ballet- 
dancers. . . . Rehearsals were held in the theatre 
where, years ago, the Prince Imperial had made 
his first appearance; the carriages were tried in 
the avenues of the park; a swarm of butlers and 
footmen were taught court etiquette in the 
servants' hall; and certain ministers' wives, 
trusting to the discreet solitude of their boudoirs, 
took lessons in solemn curtseying. All spent 
days and weeks of feverish expectation, during 
which everything had to be improvised for the 
occasion; for this was the first time since its 
advent that the republic was entertaining her 
guests outside Paris. 

And then the great day came. One morning, 
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NICHOLAS II. AND THE TSARITSA 

on the platform of the Gare du Nord, a gentleman 
dressed in black, with beard neatly trimmed, 
followed by ministers, generals and more persons 
in black, including myself, stepped into a special 
train. He had been preceded by a valet carrying 
three bags. The first — is it not a detective's 
duty to know everything ? — was a dressing-case 
containing silver-stopped crystal fittings; the 
second, which was long and flat, held six white 
shirts, twelve collars, three night-shirts, a pair 
of slippers and two broad ribbons, one red, the 
other blue; and in the third were packed a 
brand-new dress-suit, six pairs of white gloves 
and three pairs of patent-leather boots. M. 
Loubet, calm and smiling, was starting for 
Dunkirk to meet his guests. 



My first impression of the young sovereigns 
was very different from that which I expected. 
To judge by the fantastic measures taken in 
anticipation of their arrival and by the atmosphere 
of suspicion and mystery which people had been 
pleased to create around them, we were tempted 
to picture them as grave, solemn, haughty, 
mystical and distrustful; and our thoughts 
turned, in spite of ourselves, to the court of Ivan 
the Terrible rather than to that of Peter the 
Great. 

Then, suddenly, our ideas were changed. 
When we saw them close at hand, we beheld a 

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very united couple, very simple and kindly, 
anxious to please everybody and to fall in with 
everybody's wishes, obviously hating official 
pomp and ceremony and regretting to be continu- 
ally separated by impenetrable barriers from the 
rest of the world. We perceived that they loved 
to throw aside reserve, that they were capable of 
endless delicacy of thought, especially for their 
humbler fellow-creatures. We detected in the 
laughter in his eyes a frank and youthful gaiety 
that itched at restraint ; and we suspected in the 
melancholy of hers the secret tragedy of an 
ever-anxious affection, of a destiny weighed down 
by the burden of a crown in which there were 
all too many thorns and too few roses. 

I think, besides, that an erroneous opinion has 
been generally formed of the Tsar's character. 
He has been said and is still said to be a weak man. 
Now I should be inclined, on this point, to agree 
with M. Loubet that Nicholas II. 's " weakness " 
is more apparent than real, and that in him, as 
formerly in our Napoleon III., there is " a gentle 
obstinate" who has strong notions of his own, 
a being conscious of his power and proud of the 
glory of his name. 



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NICHOLAS II, AND THE TSARITSA 

It is true that the rectilinear horizontal slant 
of the letters composing the signature reveals a 
loving, imaginative, intuitive disposition, which 
feels a subtle need of sympathy and affection. 
On the other hand, observe the strong and pro- 
tecting pride of the N, the stubbornness of the 
hook that ends it, the vigour of realization 
denoted by the dot on the i, the force of the bold 
flourish pointing to justice and generosity and 
an implacable will. 

Nicholas II. had met M. Loubet before the 
time of this second visit. When the Emperor 
first came to France, in 1896, the future President 
of the Republic was president of the Senate 
and, in this capacity, had not only been pre- 
sented to the sovereign, but had received a visit 
from him. In this connection, the late M. Felix 
Faure used to tell an amusing story, which he 
said that he had from the Tsar in person. 

It was after a luncheon at the filysee. Nicholas 
II. had told President Faure that he would like 
to call on the president of the Senate and expressed 
a wish to go to the Palais du Luxembourg, if 
possible, incognito. A landau was at once pro- 
vided, without an escort; and the Emperor 
stepped in, accompanied by General de Bois- 
deffre. At that hour, the peaceful Luxembourg 
quarter was almost deserted. The people in 
the streets, expecting the Tsar to drive back 
to the Russian Embassy, had drifted in that 
direction to cheer him. 

Wishing first to find out if M. Loubet was there, 
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General de Boisdeffre had ordered the coachman 
to stop a few yards from the palace, opposite 
the gate of the Luxembourg gardens. He then 
alighted to enquire and to tell the president of 
the Senate that an august visitor was waiting 
at his door. 

The Tsar, left alone in his carriage and de- 
lighted at feeling free and at his ease, looked out 
of the window with all the zest of a schoolboy 
playing truant. He saw before him one of those 
picturesque street Arabs who seem to sprout 
between the paving-stones of Paris. This par- 
ticular specimen, seated against the railings, was 
whistling the refrain of the Russian national 
hymn, with his nose in the air. Suddenly their 
eyes met. The wondering street-boy sprang to 
his feet : he had never seen the Emperor, but he 
had seen his photograph; and the likeness was 
striking. 

" Supposing it is Nicholas," he said to himself, 
greatly puzzled. 

And, as he was an inquisitive lad, he resolved 
to make sure without delay. He took an heroic 
decision, walked up to within a yard of the car- 
riage and there, bobbing down his head, shouted 
in a hoarse voice to the unknown foreigner : 

" How's the Empress ? " 

Picture his stupefaction — for he really only 
thought that he was having a good joke — when 
he heard the stranger reply, with a smile : 

" Thank you, the Empress is very well and is 
delighted with her journey." 
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NICHOLAS II. AND THE TSARITSA 

The boy, then and there, lost his tongue. He 
stared at the speaker in dismay; and then, after 
raising his cap, stalked away slowly . . . very 
slowly, to mark his dignity. 

Nicholas II. retained a delightful recollection 
of this private interview with a true-born Parisian, 
and long amused himself by scandalizing the 
formal set around him with the story of his 
adventure. 



If, on his second stay, he did not have the 
occasion of coming into contact with the people, 
he none the less enjoyed the satisfaction of being 
admirably received. 

The incidents of the first day of this memorable 
visit, from the moment when, on the deck of 
the Standard lying off Dunkirk, the sovereigns, 
according to custom, received the salute of the 
sailors and the blessing of the old pope in his 
violet cassock : these incidents have been too 
faithfully chronicled in the press for me to 
linger over them here. It was a magnificent 
landing, amid the thunder of the guns and 
the hurrahs of the enthusiastic populace. Then 
came the journey from Dunkirk to Compiegne, 
a real triumphal progress, in which the cheers 
along the line seemed to travel almost as fast 
as the train, for they were linked from town 
to town, from village to village, from farm to 
farm. ... At last came the arrival, at nightfall, 
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in the little illuminated town, followed by the 
torchlight procession, in which the fantastic 
figure of the red cossack stood out as he clung 
to the back of the Empress's carriage ; the 
entrance into the courtyard of the chateau, all 
ablaze with light; the slow ascent of the stair- 
cases lined by motionless cuirassiers, with swords 
drawn, and powdered footmen, in their blue 
liveries a la franraise ; l and, lastly, the pre- 
sentations, enlivened, at a given moment, by 
the artless question which a minister's wife, in 
a great state of excitement and only anxious 
to please, addressed to the Empress : 
" How are your little ones ? " 



Although I had taken up my duties, which, 
as the reader knows, consisted more particularly 
in ensuring the personal safety of the Empress, 
at the time of leaving Dunkirk, I had as yet 
caught but a glimpse of that gracious lady. A 
few hours after our arrival at the chateau, chance 
made me come across her; and she deigned to 
speak to me. I doubt whether she observed my 
state of flurry ; and yet, that evening, without 
knowing it, she was the cause of a strange 
hallucination in my mind. 

I had left the procession at the entrance to the 

1 The habit a la frangaise, once a military coat, now used 
purely for livery, is a heavily embroidered coat, similar to 
that of an English flunkey, but of a less voluminous cut 
and shorter. — Translator's Note. 
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g s 







NICHOLAS II. AND THE TSARITSA 

State drawing-rooms, in order to ascertain if 
our orders had been faithfully carried out in 
and around the imperial apartments. Gradually, 
as I penetrated the maze of long and silent 
corridors, filled with my own officers, impassive 
in their footmen's liveries, a crowd of confused 
memories rose in my brain. I remembered a 
certain evening, similar to the present, when the 
palace was all lit up for a celebration. I, at that 
time still a young student, had come to see my 
kinsman, Dr. Conneau, physician to the Emperor 
Napoleon III. We were going along the same 
corridors together, when, suddenly holding me 
back by the sleeve and pointing to a proud 
and radiant fair-haired figure that passed through 
the vivid brightness of a distant gallery, he 
said : 

" The Empress ! " 

Now, at the same spot, forty years after, 
another voice, that of one of my inspectors, came 
and whispered in my ear : 

" The Empress ! " 

I started. ... In front of me, at the end of the 
gallery, a figure, also radiant and also fair, had 
suddenly come into view. She continued her 
progress, proceeding to her apartments, followed 
by her ladies-in-waiting. When she was at a 
few yards from the place where I stood motion- 
less, her eyes fell upon me ; then she came up to 
me and, holding out her white and slender 
hand : 

" I am glad to see you, M. Paoli," she said, 

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" for I know how highly my dear grandmother, 
Queen Victoria, used to think of you." 

What she did not know was how often Queen 
Victoria had spoken of her to me. That great 
sovereign, in fact, cherished a special affection 
for the child of her idolized daughter, the Grand- 
duchess Alice of Hesse. The child reminded her 
of the happy time when the princess wrote to 
her from Darmstadt, on the day after the birth 
of the future Empress of Russia : 

" She is the personification of her nickname, 
4 Sunny,' much like Ella, but a smaller head, and 
livelier, with Ernie's dimple and expression." 

Then, a few days later : 

" We think of calling her Alix (Alice they 
pronounce too dreadfully in Germany) Helena 
Louisa Beatrice ; and, if Beatrice may, we would 
like to have her for godmother." 

And these charming and touching letters 
continued through the years that followed. The 
baby had grown into a little girl, the little girl 
into a young girl; and her mother kept Queen 
Victoria informed of the least details concerning 
the child. She was anxious, fond and proud by 
turns; and over and over again she asked for 
advice : 

" I strive to bring her up totally free from 
pride of her position, which is nothing save what 
her personal merit can make it. I feel so entirely 
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NICHOLAS II. AND THE TSARITSA 

as you do on the difference of rank and how all 
important it is for Princes and Princesses to 
know that they are nothing better or above 
others save through their own merit, and that 
they have only the double duty of living for 
others and of being an example, good and 
modest." 

Next come further charming details. Princess 
Alice, returning to her children at Darmstadt 
after a visit to England, writes to the Queen : 

" They eat me up ! They had made wreaths 
over the doors and had no end of things to tell me. 

" We arrived at three, and there was not a 
moment's rest till they were all in bed and I had 
heard the different prayers of the six, with all the 
different confidences they had to make." 

Elsewhere, interesting particulars about the 
education of Princess Alix, an exclusively English 
education, very simple and very healthy, the 
programme of which included every form of 
physical exercise, such as bicycling, skating, 
tennis and riding, and allowed her, by way of 
pocket-money, fifty Pfennigs a week between the 
ages of four and eight; one Mark from eight to 
twelve ; and two Marks from twelve to sixteen. 

In the twenty-nine years that had passed since 
the first of these letters was written, what a 
number of events had occurred ! Princess Alice, 
that admirable mother, had died from kissing 
her son Ernie, who was suffering from diph- 

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theria; the royal grandmother, in her turn, 
had died quite recently. Of the seven children 
whose gaiety brightened the domestic charm 
of the little court at Darmstadt, two had 
perished in a tragic fashion : Prince Fritz first, 
killed by an accidental fall from a window, while 
playing with his brother; and Princess May, 
carried off in twenty-four hours, she, too, by 
diphtheria caught at the bedside of her sister 
:t Aliky," the present Empress of Russia. As for 
the other " dear little ones," as Queen Victoria 
called them, they had all been dispersed by fate. 
' Ella " had become the Grand-duchess Serge 
of Russia; " Ernie " had succeeded his father on 
the throne of Hesse ; two of his three remaining 
sisters had married, one Prince Henry of Prussia, 
the other Prince Louis of Battenberg; and the 
youngest had become the wearer of the heaviest 
of all crowns. And now chance placed her here, 
before me. 

I looked at her with, in my mind, the memory 
of the letters which an august and kindly con- 
descension had permitted me to read and of the 
gentle emotion with which the good and great 
Queen used to speak of the Princess Alice and of 
her daughter, the present Empress of Russia. 
Her features had not yet acquired, under the 
imperial diadem, that settled air of melancholy 
which the obsession of a perpetual danger was 
to bestow upon her later : in the brilliancy of her 
full-blown youth, which set a glad pride upon 

her tall, straight forehead; in the golden sheen 
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NICHOLAS II. AND THE TSARITSA 

of her queenly hair ; in her grave and limpid blue 
eyes, through which flashed gleams of sprightly 
fancy ; in her smile, still marked by the dimples 
of her girlish days, I recognized her to whom the 
fond imagination of a justly-proud mother had 
awarded, in her cradle, the pretty nickname of 
" Sunny." 

She stood talking to me for a few moments. 
Before moving away, she said : 

" I believe you are commissioned to 4 look 
after 'me?" 

" That is so, Ma'am," I replied. 

" I hope," she added, laughing, " that I shall 
not give you too much worry." 

I dared not confess to her that it was not only 
worry, but perpetual anguish that her presence 
and the Tsar's were causing us. 

G 

We had to be continually on the watch, to 
have safe men at every door, in every passage, 
on every floor ; we had to superintend the smallest 
details. I remember, for instance, standing by 
for nearly two hours while the Empress's dresses 
were being unpacked, so great was our fear lest 
a disguised bomb might be slipped into one 
of the sovereign's numerous trunks while the 
women were arranging the gowns in the special 
presses and cupboards intended to receive them. 
Lastly, day and night, we had to go on constant 
rounds, both inside and outside the chateau. 

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On the occasion of one of these minute investi- 
gations, I met with a rather interesting adventure. 
Not far from the apartments reserved for the 
Empress Alexandra's ladies was an unoccupied 
room, the door of which was locked. It appeared 
that, during the Empire, this room had been 
used by Mme. Bruat, the Prince Imperial's 
governess, widow of Admiral Bruat. At a time 
when every apartment in the chateau was 
thrown open for the visit of our imperial guests, 
why did this one alone remain closed ? I was 
unable to say. In any case, my duty obliged 
me to leave no corner unexplored; and, on the 
first evening, I sent for a bunch of keys. After 
a few ineffectual attempts, the lock yielded, the 
door opened . . . and imagine my bewilderment ! 
In a charming disorder, tin soldiers, dancing-dolls, 
rocking-horses and beautiful picture-books lay 
higgledy-piggledy in the middle of the room, 
around a great big ugly plush bear ! 

I enquired and found that they were the Prince 
Imperial's toys : they had been left there and 
forgotten for thirty years. And an interesting 
coincidence was that the big bear was the last 
present made by the Tsar Alexander II. to the 
little prince. 

I softly closed the door which I had opened 
upon the past : I resolved to respect those play- 
things; there are memories which are better 
left unawakened. 

The next morning, chance allowed me to assist 
at a sight which many a photographer would 
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NICHOLAS II. AND THE TSARITSA 

have been glad to " snap." The Tsar and the 
Tsaritsa, who are both very early risers, had gone 
down to the garden, accompanied by their great 
greyhound, which answered to the name of 
Lofki. The Tsar was expected to go shooting 
that morning, in anticipation of which intention 
the keepers had spent the night in filling the 
park with pheasants, roedeer and hares. Their 
labours were wasted : Nicholas II. preferred to 
stroll round the lawns with the Empress. She 
was bare-headed and had simply put up a 
parasol against the sun, which was shining with 
dazzling brightness ; she carried a camera slung 
over her shoulder. The young couple, whom 
I followed hidden behind a shrubbery, turned 
their steps towards the covered walk of 
hornbeams which Napoleon I. had had made 
for Marie-Louise. They hoped, no doubt, to 
find, in the shade of this beautiful leafy vault, 
which autumn was already decking with its 
copper hues, a discreet solitude suited to the 
billing and cooing of the pair of lovers that they 
were. . . . But the departments of public ceremon 
and public safety were on the look-out : already, 
inside the bosky tunnel, fifty soldiers, commanded 
by a lieutenant, were presenting arms ! 

The sovereigns had to make the best of a bad 
job. The Emperor reviewed the men with a 
serious face and the Empress photographed them 
and promised to send the lieutenant a print as 
soon as the plate was developed. Thereupon the 
Tsar and Tsaritsa walked away in a different 

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direction. A charming little wood appeared 
before their eyes. Lofki was running ahead of 
them. Suddenly, a furious barking was heard ; 
and four gendarmes emerged from behind a 
clump of fir-trees and gave the military salute ! 

There was nothing to be done; and the 
sovereigns gaily accepted the situation. With a 
merry burst of laughter, they turned on their heels 
and resolved to go back to the chateau. Byway 
of consolation the Tsaritsa amused herself by 
photographing her husband, who, in his turn, 
took a snapshot of his wife. 

They showed no bitterness on account of the 
disappointment which their walk must have 
caused them. In fact, to anybody who asked 
him, on his return, if he had enjoyed his stroll, 
Nicholas II. contented himself with saying : 

" Oh yes, the grounds are beautiful ; and I 
now know what you mean by ' a well-minded 
property ! ' " 

While life was being arranged in the great 
palace and every one settling down as if he were 
to stay there for a month, instead of three days ; 
while the head of the kitchens, acting under 
the inspiration of the head of the ceremonial 
department, was cudgelling his brains to bring 
his menu into harmony with politics by intro- 
ducing subtle alliances of French and Russian 
dishes; while the musicians were tuning their 
violins for the " gala " concert of the evening, 
and Mme. Bartet, that divine actress, preparing 
to speak M. Edmond Rostand's famous lines 
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NICHOLAS II. AND THE TSARITSA 

beginning, " Oh ! Oh ! Void une imperatrice ! " 1 
while the Tsaritsa, at first a little lost amid 
these new surroundings, found a friend in 
the Marquise de Montebello, our agreeable am- 
bassadress in St. Petersburg, of whom people 
used to say that she justified Turguenieff's 
epigram when he declared that, wherever you see 
a Frenchwoman, you see all France; while the 
most complete serenity seemed to reign among the 
inhabitants of the chateau, a solemn question 
was stirring all men's minds. Would the Tsar 
go to Paris ? As it was, the people of Paris were 
disappointed because the reception had not been 
held in the capital, as in 1896. Would he give 
it the compensation of a few hours' visit ? A 
special train was waiting, with steam up, in the 
station at Compiegne; long confabulations took 
place between the Emperor and M. Waldeck- 
Rousseau; luncheon was prepared at the 
filysee, with a view to the entertainment of 
an illustrious guest; secret orders were given 
to the police. In short, nobody doubted but 
that Nicholas II. intended to carry out a plan 
which everybody ascribed to him. 

Nothing came of it. The Tsar did not go to 
Paris. 

This sudden change of purpose was interpreted 
in different ways. Some people pretended that 
the prime minister was at the bottom of it, M. 
Waldeck-Rousseau having declared that he could 
not answer for the Emperor's safety in view of 

1 " Oho ! An empress comes this way ! " 

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the inadequate nature of the preparations. In 
reality, we never learnt the true reasons; and I 
have often asked myself whether this regrettable 
decision should not be attributed to the influence 
of " Philippe." 

" Philippe " was a strange, disconcerting being, 
who had something of the quack about him and 
something of the prophet, and who followed the 
Tsar like a shadow. 

His story was an astounding one from start 
to finish. He was a native of Lyons — a French- 
man, therefore — who pretended, with the aid 
of mystic practices and of inner voices which 
he called forth and consulted, to cure maladies, 
to forestall dangers, to foresee future events. . . . 
He gave consultations and wrote prescriptions, 
for he did not reject the aid of science. And, 
as he came within the law which forbids the 
practice of medicine by unqualified persons, 
he hit upon the expedient of marrying his 
daughter to a doctor, who acted as his man of 
straw. His waiting-room was never empty from 
the day when the Grand-duke Nicholas Michaelo- 
vitch, chancing to pass through Lyons and to 
hear of this mysterious personage, thought that 
he would consult him about his rheumatism. 
What happened ? Nobody knows exactly ; but 
this much is certain, that the grand-duke, on 
returning to Russia, declared that Philippe 
had cured him as though by magic, and 
that he possessed the power not only of 
driving out pain, but of securing the fulfilment 
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NICHOLAS II. AND THE TSARITSA 

of every wish. . . The Emperor, at that time, was 
longing for an heir. Greatly impressed by his 
cousin's stories and by his profound conviction, 
he resolved to summon the miracle-monger to 
St. Petersburg. This laid the foundation of 
Philippe's fortunes. Admirably served by his 
lucky star, highly intelligent, gifted with the 
manners of an apostle and an appearance of 
absolute disinterestedness, he gradually succeeded 
in acquiring a considerable hold not only on 
the imperial family, but on the whole court. 
People began to believe very seriously in his 
supernatural powers. Made much of and re- 
spected, he had free access to the sovereigns and 
ended by supplanting both doctors and advisers. 
He also treated cases at a distance, by auto- 
suggestion. Whenever he obtained leave to go 
home on a visit, he kept up with his illustrious 
clients an exchange of telegrams that would 
tend to make us smile, if they did not stupefy 
us at the thought of so much credulity. Thus, 
a given person of quality would wire : 

"Suffering violent pains head; entreat give 
relief." 

Whereupon Philippe would at once reply : 

" Have concentrated thought on pain ; expect 
cure between this and four o'clock to-morrow." 

This is not an invention. I have seen the 
telegrams. 

For people to have so blind a faith in his 

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mediation, he must obviously have effected a 
certain number of cures. As a matter of fact, I 
believe that the power of the will is such that, in 
certain affections which depended partly upon 
the nervous system, he succeeded in suggesting 
to a patient that he was not and could not be ill. 

However, what was bound to happen happened. 
His star declined from the day when people 
became persuaded that he was not infallible. 
The Tsar's set precipitated his disgrace, when 
the Tsaritsa brought another daughter into the 
world, instead of the promised son. One fine 
day, Philippe went back to Lyons for good ; he 
died there a few years ago. And, in the following 
year, the mighty empire had an heir ! 

At the time of the visit of the sovereigns to 
Compiegne, he was still at the height of his 
favour. He accompanied our imperial hosts; 
and his presence at the chateau surprised us as 
much as anything. In fact, like the Doge of 
Venice who came to Versailles under Louis XIV., 
Philippe himself might have said : 

" What astonishes me most is to see myself 
here ! " 

But Philippe was astonished at nothing. 
Anxious to retain his personality in the midst 
of that gold-laced crowd, he walked about the 
apartments in a grey suit and brown shoes : on 
the first day, he was within an ace of being 
arrested ; we took him for an anarchist ! 

Our extreme distrust, to which the unfortunate 
Philippe nearly fell a victim, was only too well 
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NICHOLAS II. AND THE TSARITSA 

justified. I believe that I am not guilty of an 
indiscretion — for the memorable events of 1901 
are now a matter of history — when I say to-day 
that there was an attempt, an attempt of which 
our guests never heard, because a miraculous 
accident enabled us to defeat its execution in the 
nick of time. 

It was in the cathedral of Rheims that the 
criminal effort was to be accomplished during 
the visit of the sovereigns, who had expressed a 
desire to see the inside of that exquisite fabric. 
On learning of Their Majesties' intention, our 
colleagues of the Russian police displayed the 
greatest nervousness : 

" Nothing could be easier," they told us, a few 
days before the visit, "than for a terrorist to 
deposit a bomb in some dark place, under a chair, 
behind a confessional, or at the foot of a statue. . . 
The interior of the cathedral must be watched 
from this moment, together with the people who 
enter it." 

Although we had already thought of this, they 
decided, on their part, to entrust this task to an 
" informer " — in other words, a spy — of Belgian 
nationality, who had joined the Russian detective- 
service. Hennion, who was always prudent, 
hastened, in his turn, to set a watch on the 
" informer." Twenty-four hours later, one of 
his men came to see him in a great state of 
fright : 

" M. Hennion," he said, " I have obtained 

proofs that the ' informer ' is connected with a 

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gang of terrorists. They are preparing an attack 
in the cathedral ! " 

Hennion did not hesitate for a moment. He 
hastened to Rheims, instituted a police-search 
in a room which the " informer " had secretly 
hired under a false name and seized a correspond- 
ence which left no doubt whatever as to the 
existence of the plot. The " informer " himself 
was to do the dirty work ! 

He was at once arrested and pressed with 
questions : 

" I swear that I know nothing about it," he 
exclaimed, " and that's the plain truth ! " 

" Very well," said Hennion, who held absolute 
proofs. " Take this man to prison, since he's 
telling the truth, and bring him back when he 
decides to tell a lie." 

The next day, the man confessed. 

This was the only tragic episode that occurred 
during the imperial visit. Nevertheless, in spite 
of the satisfaction which we had felt at receiving 
the Tsar and Tsaritsa, we heaved a sigh of relief 
when, on the following day, we saw the train 
that was to take them back to Russia steam out 
of the station. 

They were still alive, God be praised, but 
that was almost more than could be said of us ! 



146 



CHAPTER V 

THE KING AND QUEEN OF ITALY 
1 

I have always harboured a vagrant spirit under 
my frock-coat of office. I find my pleasure and 
relaxation in travelling. And I took advantage 
of a few weeks' leave of absence, allowed me 
after the departure of the Russian sovereigns, to 
pay a visit to Italy. 

Shortly after my arrival at Milan, I was 
strolling, one afternoon, in the well-known 
Galleria Vittorio-Emmanuele — that favourite 
Milanese and cosmopolitan resort, whose inces- 
sant and picturesque animation presages the 
gaiety, if not the charm of Italy — when the 
window of a glove-shop caught my eye and 
reminded me that I had left my gloves in the 
railway-carriage. I thought I might as well buy 
myself a new pair; and I entered the shop. A 
customer had gone in before me. It was a 
lady, young, tall and slender, quietly but 
elegantly dressed in a plain, dark travelling- 
frock. Through the long blue motor- veil that 
close-shrouded her head and face, a pair of 
eyes gleamed, black and, as I thought, large 
and beautiful; her hair was dark and, as far as 
L2 147 



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I could see, there were masses of it ; the features 
seemed refined and pretty. Leaning on the 
counter, she tried on the gloves which a young 
shop-assistant handed her. None of them 
fitted. 

" They are too large," she said, shyly. 
"That is because the signora has so small a 
hand," replied the young assistant, gallantly. 

She smiled and did not answer; an elderly 
lady who was with her gave the youth an indig- 
nant and scandalized glance. After patiently 
allowing the measure to be taken of her hand, 
open and closed — it was indeed a very small 
one — she ended by finding two pairs of gloves to 
suit her, paid for them and went out. 

Just then, the owner of the shop returned. 
He looked at the lady, gave a bewildered start, 
bowed very low and, as soon as she was gone, 
shouted to his assistant : 

" Have you the least idea whom you have been 
serving ? " 

" A very pretty woman, I know that ! " 
" Idiot ! It was the Queen ! " 
The Queen ! It was my turn to feel be- 
wildered. The Queen, alone, unprotected, in 
that arcade full of people ! I was on the point 
of following her, from professional habit, for- 
getting that I was at Milan not as an official, 
but as a private tourist. A still more important 
reason stopped my display of zeal : it was too 
late ; the charming vision was lost in the 
crowd. 
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THE KING AND QUEEN OF ITALY 



The next evening, I was dining at a friend's 
house, where the guests belonged, for the most 
part, to the official and political world. When I 
related my adventure and expressed my astonish- 
ment at having met the sovereign making her own 
purchases in town, accompanied by a stern-faced 
lady-in-waiting : 

" Did that surprise you ? " I was asked. " It 
does not surprise us at all. One of our haughty 
princesses of the House of Savoy has said, sarcas- 
tically, that we have gone back to the times when 
kings used to mate with shepherdesses. That 
was merely a disrespectful sally. The truth 
is that both our King and Queen have very 
simple tastes and like to live as ordinary people, 
in so far as their obligations permit them. Let 
me give you an instance in point : whenever 
they come to Milan — and they never stay here for 
longer than two or three days — they go to the 
royal palace, of course, but, instead of living in 
the State apartments and bringing a large number 
of servants with them, they prefer to occupy 
just a few rooms, have their meals sent in 
from the Ristorante Cova and order the dishes 
all to be brought up at the same time and 
placed on a sideboard. Then they dismiss the 
servants, shut the doors and wait upon them- 
selves." 

In our sunny countries — I can speak for them, 
as a Corsican — we love pomp and ceremonv. I 

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seemed to observe in the friends who gave me this 
striking illustration of the royal simplicity a 
touch of bitterness, perhaps of regret. Remarks 
that reached my ears later made me come to the 
conclusion that the aristocracy, if not the people, 
disapproved of their sovereign's democratic 
tendencies, which contrasted with the ways of 
the old court, of which Queen Margherita had 
been the soul and still remained the living and 
charming embodiment. 

No doubt, Queen Helena's " manner " was 
entirely different from that of Margherita of 
Savoy, whose highly-developed and refined 
culture, whose apposite wit, whose engaging mode 
of address, built up of shades that appealed to 
delicate minds, had attracted to the Quirinal the 
pick of intellectual, artistic and literary Italy 
and held it bound in fervent admiration. Edu- 
cated at the court of her father, Prince Nicholas, 
Helena of Montenegro had grown up amid the 
austere scenery of her native land, in constant 
contact with the rugged simplicity of the Monte- 
negrin highlanders ; her wide-open child-eyes had 
never rested on other than grave and manly 
faces; her girlhood was decked not with fairy- 
tales, but with the old, wild legends of the 
mountains, or else with epics extolling the heroism 
of those who, in the days of old, had driven the 
foreign invader from the valleys of Antivari and 
the lofty uplands of Cettinje. At the age of 
twelve, she was sent to St. Petersburg to finish 
her studies. There, in the promiscuous intercourse 
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THE KING AND QUEEN OF ITALY 

of a convent confined to young ladies of gentle 
birth, she had known the charm of friendships that 
removed all differences of social rank between her 
fellow-pupils and herself, while her mind opened 
out to the somewhat melancholy beauties of 
Slav literature. On returning to her country, 
she enjoyed, in the fulness of an independence 
wholly undisturbed by the demands of etiquette, 
the healthy delights of an open-air life, which she 
divided between water-colour drawing, in which 
she excelled, and sport, in which she showed 
herself fearless. 

She saw Italy for the first time in 1895 and 
saw it through the gates of Venice, where her 
father had taken her on the occasion of an 
exhibition. One evening, in the midst of the 
novel and fairy -like scene of the lagoon arrayed 
in its holiday attire, she beheld the homage of 
a glowing admiration in the eyes of the then 
Prince of Naples ; and it will readily be conceived 
that she was flurried and not a little dazzled. 
In the following year, she bade farewell to her 
craggy mountains and to the proud highlanders, 
the companions of her childhood ; and it will be 
understood that, when she saw the gay and 
enthusiastic nation of Italy hastening to welcome 
her, the twenty-year-old bride, with all the hopes 
and all the promises which she brought with her, 
she at first experienced a sense of shyness and 
confusion. 

The shyness, I am told, has never completely 
worn off. On the other hand, in the absence of 

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more brilliant outward qualities, Queen Helena 
has displayed admirable domestic virtues; she 
has known how to show herself a queen in 
all that regards the noble and delicate missions 
of devotion and goodness to the poor and 
lowly. And she has done better than that : 
she has realized her engrossing duties as wife 
and mother; and these are sweet and dear to 
her. 

Had things been otherwise, the king's temper, 
which is quick to take offence, and his jealous 
fondness would have suffered cruelly. He too is 
shy, he too is a man of domestic habits, who has 
always avoided society and pleasure. Possessing 
none of the physical qualities that attract the 
crowd, endowed with an unimaginative, but, 
on the other hand, a reflective and studious mind, 
remarkably well-informed, highly-intelligent and 
passionately interested in social problems and 
the exact sciences, none was readier than he to 
enjoy the charm of a peaceful home which he 
had never known during his youth. Great 
though the attachment between the son 
and mother was, they nevertheless remained 
separated by differences in character, tempera- 
ment and ideas. Whereas Queen Margherita 
kept all her enthusiasm for art and literature, 
the Prince of Naples displayed, if not a 
repugnance, at least a complete indifference 
to such matters. When he was only ten years 
of age, he said to his piano-mistress, Signora 
Cerasoli, who was appointed by his mother and 
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THE KING AND QUEEN OF ITALY 

who vainly struggled to instil the first principles 
of music into his mind : 

'Don't you think that twenty trumpets are 
more effective than that piano of yours ? " 

To make amends, he showed from his earliest 
youth a marked predilection for military science. 
He had the soul of a soldier and submitted, 
without a murmur, to the strict discipline imposed 
upon him by his tutor, Colonel Osio. He is still 
fond of relating, as one of the pleasantest 
memories of his life, the impression which he 
felt on the day when King Humbert first entrusted 
him with the command of a company of foot at 
the annual review of the Roman garrison : 

' The excitement interfered so greatly with 
my power of sight," he says, "that the only 
people I recognized in the cheering crowd were 
my dentist and my professor of mathematics." 

His keen love of the army became manifest 
when, as heir apparent, he received the command 
of the army-corps of Naples. Frivolous and 
light-headed Neapolitan society looked forward 
to receiving a worldly-minded prince and rejoiced 
accordingly; but it soon discovered its mistake : 
the prince, scorning pleasure, devoted himself 
exclusively to his profession and left his barracks 
only to go straight back to the Capodimonte 
Palace, where he spent his spare time in perfecting 
himself in the study of military tactics. 

When, at last, the tragedy of Monza called 
him suddenly to the throne, the manliness of his 
attitude, the firmness of his character and the 

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soberness of his mind impressed the uneasy and 
disunited world of politics. He insisted upon 
drawing up his first proclamation to the Italian 
people with his own hand and in it proved himself 
a man of the times, thoroughly acquainted with 
the needs and aspirations of modern Italy. 

" I know," he said to Signor Crispi, a few days 
after his accession, " I know all the responsi- 
bilities of my station and I would not presume 
to think that I can remedy the present difficulties 
with my own unaided strength. But I am 
convinced that those difficulties all spring from 
one cause. In Italy, there are few citizens who 
perform their duty strictly : there is too much 
indolence, too much laxity. Italy is at a serious 
turning-point in her history : she is eaten up with 
politics; she must absolutely direct her energies 
towards the development of her economic re- 
sources. Her industries will save her by improv- 
ing her financial position and employing all the 
hands at present lying idle in an inactivity that 
has lasted far too long. I shall practise what I 
preach by scrupulously following my trade as 
king, by encouraging initiative and especially by 
encouraging the social and economic evolution of 
the country." 

Let me do him this justice : he has kept his 
promises. A powerful will soon made itself con- 
spicuous under that frail exterior. He applied to 
the consideration of every subject the ardour 
of an insatiable curiosity and his wish to know 
things correctlv and thoroughly. He studied the 
154 



THE KING AND QUEEN OF ITALY 

confused conditions of Italian parliamentary life 
with as much perseverance as the social question. 
It is possible that, by democratizing the monarchy, 
he has forestalled popular movements which, 
in a country so passionate in its opinions and so 
exuberant in their manifestation as Italy, might 
have caused irreparable disorders and delayed 
the magnificent progress of the nation. 

Pondering over these serious problems, his 
vigilant and studious mind sought relaxation 
and, at times, consolation and encouragement 
for its rough task in the ever-smiling intimacy of 
the home. It resolved that this home should be 
impenetrable to others, so impenetrable that it 
excluded the sovereign and a fortiori his official 
"set " : the husband and father alone are admitted. 
This is the secret of that close union which has 
made people say of the Italian royal couple that 
they represent the perfect type of a middle-class 
household which has found its way by accident 
into a king's palace. 

I have tried to give a psychological picture of 
the two sovereigns, arising from the impressions 
which I picked up in the course of my trip to Italy. 
Their visit to Paris was destined to confirm its 
accuracy and to complete its details. 



I little thought, on the afternoon when I caught 

so unexpected a glimpse of Queen Helena in a 

Milan glove-shop, that, two years later, I was to 

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have the honour of attending both Her Majesty 
and the King during their journey to France. 
It was their first visit to Paris in state ; and our 
government attached considerable importance 
to this event, which accentuated the scope of 
what Prince von Biilow, at that time chancellor 
of the German Empire, called, none too good- 
humouredly, Italy's " little waltz " with France. 

The letter of appointment which I received at 
the beginning of October 1903 directed me to go 
at once and await our guests at the Italian fron- 
tier and to bring them safely to Paris. It was 
pitch-dark, on a cold, wet night, when the royal 
train steamed out of the Mont-Cenis tunnel and 
pulled up at the platform of the frontier-station 
of Modane, where I had been pacing up and down 
for over an hour. My curiosity was stimulated, 
I must confess, by the recollection of the episode 
in the Galleria Vittorio-Emmanuele at Milan. 
Amused by the chance which was about to bring 
me face to face with " the lady of the gloves," 
I was longing to know if my first impressions were 
correct and if the features which I had conjec- 
tured, rather than perceived, behind the blue veil 
were really those which I should soon be able to 
view in the full light. 

The blinds of the eight royal railway-carriages 
were lowered ; not a sign betrayed the presence 
of living beings in the silent train. After a 
long moment, a carriage-door opened and a 
giant, in a long, pale-grey cavalry cloak and 
a blue forage-cap braided with scarlet piping 
156 



THE KINCx AND QUEEN OF ITALY 

and adorned with a gold tassel, stepped out softly 
and, making straight for me, said : 

" Hush ! They are asleep." 

It was two o'clock in the morning. The first 
official reception had been arranged to take place 
at Dijon, where we were due to arrive at nine 
o'clock. I took my seat in the train and we 
started. Not everybody was asleep. In the last 
carriage, which was reserved for the servants, a 
number of maids, wrapped in those beautiful red 
shawls which you see on the quays at Naples, 
were chattering away, with the greatest ani- 
mation, in Italian. The echoes of that musical 
and expressive language reached the compart- 
ment in which I was trying to doze and called up 
memories of my childhood in my old Corsican 
heart. 

It was broad daylight and we were nearing 
Dijon, when Count Guicciardini, the King's 
master of the horse, came to fetch me to present 
me to the sovereigns. 

Two black, grave, proud and gentle eyes; a 
forehead framed in a wealth of dark hair ; beauti- 
ful and delicate features; a smile that produced 
two little dimples on either side of the mouth ; 
a tall, slight figure : I at once recognized the lady 
of Milan in the charming sovereign, stately and 
shy, who came stepping towards me. It was the 
same little white hand that she put out again, 
this time, however, that I might press upon it 
the homage of my respectful welcome. Should 

I recall the incident of the gloves ? I had it on 

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my lips to do so. ... I was afraid of appearing 
ridiculous : of course, she would not remember. 
... I said nothing. 

" Delighted, M. Paoli, delighted to know you ! " 
exclaimed the King, fixing me with his piercing 
eyes and shaking me vigorously by the hand. 

" Sir . . ." 

" But stay : Paoli is an Italian name ! " 

" Very nearly, Sir : I am a Corsican." 

" A fellow-countryman of Napoleon's, then ? 
I congratulate you ! " 

Our conversation, that morning, was confined 
to these few words. From Dijon onwards, the 
journey assumed an official character; and I lost 
sight of the King and Queen amid the crowd of 
glittering uniforms. However, a few minutes 
before our arrival at Paris, I surprised them both 
standing against a window-pane, the Queen in an 
exquisite costume of pale-grey velvet and silk, 
the King in the uniform of an Italian general, 
with the broad ribbon of the Legion of Honour 
across his chest. While watching the landscape, 
they exchanged remarks that appeared to me to 
be of an affectionate nature. 

Meanwhile, a sedate footman entered and dis- 
creetly placed upon the table, behind the sove- 
reigns, an extraordinary object that attracted my 
eyes. It looked like an enormous bird buried 
in its feathers : it was at one and the same time 
resplendent and voluminous. I came closer and 
then saw that it was a helmet, just a helmet, 
covered with feathers of fabulous dimensions. 
158 



THE KING AND QUEEN OF ITALY 

And, indeed, I was not the only one to be 
astonished at the imposing proportions of this 
head-dress : whenever the King donned it in 
Paris, it achieved a huge success ; it towered above 
the crowds, the livery-servants' cockades, the 
soldiers' bayonets ; it became the target of every 
kodak. 

The Queen's shyness ? The occasion soon 
offered to observe it; in fact, that solemn entry 
into Paris was enough to make any young woman, 
queen or no queen, shy. The authorities wished 
to make the greatest effect possible and sent the 
procession down the Avenue du Bois de Boulogne 
and the Champs-filysees. No doubt, the charm- 
ing sovereign was deeply impressed and a little 
bewildered ; but the warmth of the welcome, the 
heartiness of the cheering afforded her, as well 
as her consort, a visible pleasure ; and, from that 
very first day, she was full of pretty thoughts 
and he of generous movements. At a certain 
moment, she took a rose from a bouquet of roses 
de France which she was carrying and gave it to 
a little girl who had thrust herself close to the 
carriage. He, on the other hand, walked straight 
to the colours of the battalion of zouaves who 
were presenting arms in the courtyard of the 
Foreign Office and raised to his lips the folds of 
the standard on which were inscribed two names 
dear to Italian hearts and French memories 
alike : Magenta and Solferino. 

The Foreign Office was turned into a royal 
palace for the occasion of this visit. While the 

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government had endeavoured to decorate in the 
most sumptuous possible style the apartments 
which the King and Queen of Italy were to 
occupy on the first floor, Mme. Delcasse, the 
wife of the foreign minister, on her side, did 
her best to relieve the somewhat cold and solemn 
appearance of the rooms. With this object, she 
procured photographs of the little Princesses 
Yolanda and Mafalda and placed them in hand- 
some frames on the Queen's dressing-table. The 
Queen was greatly touched by the delicate atten- 
tion. On entering the room, she uttered a spon- 
taneous exclamation that betrayed all a mother's 
fondness : 

" Oh, the children ! How delightful ! " 

The children ! How often those words returned 
to her lips during her stay in Paris ! She spoke 
of them incessantly, she spoke of them to every- 
body, to Madame Loubet, to Madame Delcasse, 
to the Italian ambassadress, even to the two 
French waiting-maids attached to her service : 

' Yolanda, the elder, with her black hair and 
her black eyes is like me," she would explain. 
" Mafalda, on the other hand, is the image of her 
father. They both have such good little hearts." 

Her maternal anxiety was also manifested in 
the impatience with which she used to wait for 
news of the princesses. Every evening, when she 
returned to the Foreign Office after a day of drives 
and visits in different parts of Paris, her first 
words were : 

" My wire ? " 
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THE KING AND QUEEN OF ITALY 

And, a little nervously, she opened the telegram 
that was dispatched to her daily from San 
Rossone, where " the children " were, and 
greedily read the bulletin of reassuring news 
which it contained. 

On the morning of her arrival, she rang for 
a maid as soon as she woke up : 

" 1 have an old friend in Paris," she said, 
"whom I want to see; it is my old French 

mistress, Mile. E . She lives on the Quai 

Voltaire : please have her sent for." 

An attache hastened off at once and, in 
half-an-hour, returned triumphantly with Mile. 

E , a charming old lady who had once 

been governess to Princess Helena of Montenegro 
at Cettinje. She had not seen her for ten 
years; and the reader can imagine her surprise 
and her confusion. The mistress and pupil threw 
themselves into each other's arms. And, when 

Mile. E persisted in addressing the Queen as 

" Your Majesty," the latter interrupted her and 
said : 

" Why ' Your Majesty ' ? Call me Helena, as 
you used to do." 

The authorities, conforming to royal usage, had 
considered it the proper thing to prepare two 
distinct suites of rooms, one for the King and one 
for the Queen, separated by an enormous drawing- 
room. Great was our surprise when, on the 
following morning, the rumour ran through the 
passages of the Foreign Office that the King's 

bedroom had remained untenanted. Had he 
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found it uncomfortable ? Did he not like the 
room ? Every one began to be anxious and it 
was felt that the mystery must be cleared up. 
I therefore went to one of the officers of the royal 
suite, took him aside and, while talking of " other 
things," tried to sound him as to the King's 
impressions : 

" Is His Majesty pleased with his apart- 
ments ? " 

" Delighted." 

" Was there anything wrong with the heating 
arrangements ? " 

" No, nothing." 

" Perhaps the King does not care for the bed 
provided for His Majesty's use ? I hear it is 
very soft and comfortable, in addition to being 
historic." 

" Not at all, not at all; I believe His Majesty 
thought everything perfect." 

Alas, I felt that my hints were misunderstood ! 
I must needs speak more directly. Without 
further circumlocution, therefore, I said : 

" The fact is, it appears that the King did not 
deign to occupy his apartments." 

The officer looked at me and smiled : 

" But the King never leaves the Queen ! " he 
exclaimed. " With us, married couples seldom 
have separate rooms, unless when they are on 
bad terms. And that is not the case here ! " 

The pair were never parted, in fact, except at 
early breakfast. The King was accustomed to take 
cafe au lait, the Queen chocolate : the first was 
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THE KING AND QUEEN OF ITALY 

served in the small sitting-room where the King, 
already dressed in his general's uniform, went 
through his letters; the second in the boudoir, 
where the Queen, in a pink-surat dressing-gown 
trimmed with lace, devoted two hours, after her 
toilet, each morning, to her correspondence, or 
to the very feminine pleasure of trying on frocks 
and hats. 

I twice again had the honour of seeing her 
shopping, as on a former famous occasion; but 
this time I accompanied her in the course of 
my professional duties. She bought no gloves, 
but made up for it by purchases of linen, jewels, 
numerous knick-knacks and toys; and one would 
have thought that she was buying those china 
dolls, with their tiny sets of tea-things, for herself, 
so great was the child-like joy which she showed 
in their selection : 

' This is for Yolanda, this is for Mafalda," she 
said, as she pointed to the objects that were to 
be placed on one side. 

I saw her for the first time grave and thoughtful 
at the palace at Versailles, which she and the 
King visited in the company of M. and Mme. 
Loubet. I think that she must have retained a 
delightful recollection of this excursion to the 
palace of our kings, an excursion which left a 
lively impression on my own mind. It seemed 
as though Nature herself had conspired to 
accentuate its charm. The ancestral park was 
shrouded in the soft rays of the expiring autumn : 
the trees crowned their sombre tops with a few 

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belated leaves of golden brown; the distances 
were mauve, like lilac in April; and the breeze 
that blew from the west scattered the water of 
the fountains and changed it into feathery tufts 
of spray. 

The sovereigns, escorted by the keeper of the 
palace, first visited the State apartments, stopping 
for some time before the portraits of the princes 
and princesses of the House of France. And, 
in those great rooms filled with so many precious 
memories, Queen Helena listened silently and 
eagerly to the keeper's explanations. She lingered 
more particularly in the private apartments of 
Marie- Antoinette, where the most trifling objects 
excited her curiosity : obviously her imagination 
as a woman and a queen took pleasure in this 
feminine and royal past. Sometimes, obeying a 
discreet and spontaneous impulse, when the 
overpowering memory of some tragic episode 
weighed too heavily upon our silent thoughts, 
she pressed herself timidly against the King, as 
a little girl might do. And once we heard her 
whisper : 

" Ah, if ' things ' could speak ! " 

4 

And the King ? The King, while appreciating, 
as an expert, the archaeological beauties which we 
had to show him and the imperishable evidences 
of our history, did not share the Queen's enthu- 
siasm for our artistic treasures. When coming 
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THE KING AND QUEEN OF ITALY 

to Paris, he had looked forward to two principal 
pleasures : seeing our soldiers and visiting the 
Musee Monetaire, or collection of coins at our 
national mint. 

As is well known, Victor Emanuel is considered 
— and rightly so — an exceedingly capable numis- 
matist. He is very proud of his title as honorary 
president of the Italian Numismatical Society 
and, in 1897, undertook the task of drawing up 
the catalogue of the authentic old coinages of 
Italy. He derived the necessary materials for 
his work from his own collection, which at that 
time consisted of about forty thousand pieces. 
Of the two hundred and sixty types of Italian 
coinage known, barely one half could lay 
claim to absolute genuineness; and the work 
which he had to perform in bringing them to- 
gether, completing and authenticating them 
was no light one. 

A rather interesting story is told of the manner 
in which the King, when still little more than a 
child, acquired a taste for the science of numis- 
matics. One day, he received a soldo bearing the 
head of Pope Pius IX., which he kept. A little 
later, finding another, he added it to the first; 
and, in this way, he ended by collecting fifteen. 
Meanwhile, his father, King Humbert, had pre- 
sented him with some sixty pieces of old copper 
money; and he thus formed the nucleus of his 
collection. 

Thenceforward, at every anniversary, on his 
birthday, at Christmas, at Easter, the different 

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members of the royal family, who used to chaff 
him about his new passion, gave him coins or 
medals. He made important purchases on his 
own account; and, finally, in 1900, he doubled 
the dimensions of his collection at one stroke by 
buying the inestimable treasure of coins belonging 
to the Marchese Marignoli, which was on the point 
of being dispersed. 

He admits, nevertheless, that the piece that 
represents the highest value in his eyes is a gold 
Montenegrin coin struck in the early days of the 
Petrovich dynasty and presented to him by 
Princess Helena of Montenegro at the time of 
their engagement. This coin is so rare that only 
one other specimen is known to exist: it is in 
the numismatical gallery at Vienna. 

The King, moreover, has lately enriched his 
collection with an exceedingly rare series of coins 
of the Avignon popes. They were sold at auction 
at Frankfort; and a spirited contest took place 
between buyers acting respectively on behalf of 
King Victor Emanuel, the Pope and the director 
of our own gallery of medals. 

It was, therefore, with a very special interest- 
that he visited our mint, whose collection is famed 
throughout Europe. The director, knowing that 
he had to do with a connoisseur, had taken a great 
deal of trouble ; in fact, I believe that he intended 
to " stagger " the King with his erudition. But 
he reckoned without his host, or rather his guest ; 
and, instead of the expert dazzling the King, it 
was the King who astonished the expert. He 
166 



THE KING AND QUEEN OF ITALY 

surprised him to such good purpose, with the 
accuracy and extent of his information on the 
subject of coins, that the learned director had to 
own himself beaten : 

" We are schoolboys beside Your Majesty," he 
confessed, in all humility. 

And I think that this was something more than 
a courtier's phrase. 

The King, as I have said, takes a keen interest 
in military matters. He displayed it on the 
occasion of the review of the Paris garrison. 
He had appeared bored at the concert at the 
filysee on the previous evening, but made up 
for it now by his obvious enjoyment of the 
impressive spectacle which we were able to 
provide for him on the drill-ground at Vincennes. 
He wished to ride along the front of the 
troops on horseback and had brought with him 
from Italy, for this purpose, his own saddle, 
a very handsome and richly-caparisoned military 
saddle. The Governor of Paris having lent him 
a charger, he proved himself a first-rate horse- 
man, for the animal, unnerved at having to carry 
a harness heavier than that to which it was 
accustomed, could hit upon nothing better than 
to make a show of ill-temper, regardless of the 
august quality of its rider. It was the worst 
day's work that that horse ever did in its life ; and 
it had to recognize that it had found its master. 

After making a thorough inspection of the 
troops, by the side of the minister for war, the 
King expressed a desire to examine the outfit of 

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MY ROYAL CLIENTS 

one of the soldiers ; and a private was ordered to 
fall out of the ranks. Victor Emanuel took up the 
soldier's knapsack, handled it, looked through it 
and made a movement as though to buckle it to 
the man's shoulders again himself, whereat the 
worthy little pioupiou, quite scared and red with 
dismay, cried : 

" Oh, no, thanks, mon . . . mon." 

But the poor fellow, who had never even spoken 
to a general, had no notion how to address a 
king. 

Thereupon the King, greatly amused, made a 
charming reply : 

" Call me what your forbears, the French 
soldiers in 1859, called my grandfather on the 
night of the battle of Palestro; call me mon 
caporal ! " 

Victor Emanuel has too practical and matter- 
of-fact a mind to be what is called a man of 
sentiment. Nevertheless, I saw him betray a 
real emotion when he was taken, on the following 
day, to visit the tomb of Napoleon I. The tomb 
was surrounded by six old pensioners carrying 
lighted torches. There were but few people 
there ; the fitful flames of the torches cast their 
fantastic gleams upon the imperial sarcophagus ; 
and the invisible presence of the Great Conqueror 
hovered over us : it seemed as though he would 
suddenly rise bodily out of that yawning gulf 
that coffin of marble, dressed in his grey overcoat 
and his immemorial hat. 

During a long silence, the King stood and 
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THE KING AND QUEEN OF ITALY 

dreamt, with bowed head. When we left the 
chapel, he was dreaming still. 

I had another striking picture of Victor 
Emanuel III. during the day's shooting with 
which M. Loubet provided him in the preserves 
at Rambouillet. The King, whose love of sport 
equals his passion for numismatics, is a first-rate 
shot. He aims at a great height, is careful of his 
cartridges and rarely misses a bird. According 
to custom, he was followed at Rambouillet by a 
keeper carrying a second gun, ready loaded, of 
course. 

Now it happened that the King, seeing a flight 
of pheasants, began by discharging both barrels 
and bringing down a brace of birds. He then 
took the other gun, which the keeper held ready 
for him, put it to his shoulder and pulled the 
trigger : both shots missed fire. The keeper had 
forgotten to load the gun ! Picture the rage of 
the sovereign, who, disconsolate at losing his 
pheasants, began to rate the culprit soundly ! 
The unfortunate keeper, feeling more dead than 
alive, did not know what excuse to make; and 
he looked upon his place as fairly lost. 

Then the King, guessing the man's unspoken 
fears, abruptly changed his tone : 

" Never mind," he said. " There's no forgiv- 
ing you; but I shall not say anything about 
it." 

The King was obviously delighted with his 
day's sport. Yet, among the many attentions 
which we paid our guests during their brief stay 

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MY ROYAL CLIENTS 

in Paris, one surprise which we prepared for them 
was, if I am not mistaken, more acceptable to 
them — and especially to the Queen — than any 
other. This surprise consisted in the recital 
before Their Majesties, by our great actress, 
Mme. Bartet, of the Comedie Francaise, of an 
unpublished poem from the pen of . . . the 
Queen herself. 

Helena of Montenegro had been a poet in 
her leisure hours. At the time of her engage- 
ment, she wrote a fragment in Russian which 
she sent to a St. Petersburg magazine, under 
the pseudonym of " Blue Butterfly " ; and the 
magazine printed it without knowing the author's 
real name. It was written in rhythmical prose ; 
and I was fortunate enough to secure a copy of 
the translation : 

" VISION 

" The mother said to her daughter : 
" ' Wouldst know how the world is made ? 
Open thine eyes.' 

" And the little maid opened her eyes. She 
saw lordly and towering mountains, she saw 
valleys full of delights, she saw the sun which 
shines upon and gilds all things, she saw twinkling 
stars and the deep billows of the sea, she saw tor- 
rents with foaming waters and flowers with varied 
perfumes, she saw light-winged birds and the 
golden sheaves of the harvest. Then she closed 
her eyes. 
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THE KING AND QUEEN OF ITALY 

" And then she saw, she saw the fairest thing 
upon this earth : the image of the beloved who 
filled her heart, the image of the beloved who 
shone within her soul, the image of the beloved 
who gave his love in return for the love that 
was hers." 



This charming fragment had been discovered 
by a collector of royal poetry some time before 
the visit of the Italian sovereigns. It was 
transposed into French verse; and M. Loubet 
delicately caused it to be recited to our hosts 
in the course of a reception given in their 
honour at the Elysee. That evening, the beauti- 
ful Queen enjoyed a twofold success, as a 
woman and a poet. 



The unpretending affability of the royal couple 
was bound to win the affections of the French 
people. The cheers that greeted them in their 
drives through Paris increased in enthusiasm 
from day to day and proved that they had 
conquered all hearts. 

" It is astonishing," said an Italian official to 
me, " but they are even more popular here than 
at home ! " 

" That must be because they show themselves 
more," I replied. 

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At the risk of disappointing the reader, I am 
bound to confess that no tragic or even un- 
pleasant incident came to spoil their pleasure 
or their peace of mind. It appeared that the 
anarchist gentry were allowing themselves a 
little holiday. 

In the absence of the conventional plot, we had, 
it is true, the inevitable shower of anonymous 
letters and even some that were signed. The 
Queen, alas, had done much to encourage epis- 
tolary mendicants by announcing her wish that 
replies should be sent to all letters asking for 
assistance and that, in every possible case, satis- 
faction should be given to the writers. The result 
was that all the poverty-stricken Italians with 
whom Paris teems gave themselves free scope, to 
their hearts' content ; and the usual fraternity of 
French begging-letter-writers — those who had 
formerly so artlessly striven to excite the com- 
passion of the Shah of Persia — also tried what 
they could do. 

But what reply was it possible to send to such 
letters as the following ? — 



" To Her Majesty the Queen of Italy. 

" Madam, 

' We are a young married couple, 
honest, but poor. We were unable to have a 
honeymoon, for lack of money. It would be 
our dream to go to Italy, which is said to be the 
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THE KING AND QUEEN OF ITALY 

land of lovers. We thought that Your Majesty, 
loving your husband as you do and, therefore, 
knowing what love means, might consent to help 
us to make this little journey. We should want 
five hundred francs : we entreat Your Majesty 
to lend it to us. When my husband has a better 
situation — he is at present an assistant in a curio- 
sity-shop — he will not fail to repay Your Majesty 
the money. 

" Pray, Madam, accept the thanks of 
" Your Majesty's respectful and grateful servant, 

" Marie G , 

" Poste Restante 370, Paris." 



" To His Majesty the King of Italy. 

" Sir, 

" I am a young painter full of ambition 
and said to be not devoid of talent. I am very 
anxious to see Rome and to study its artistic 
masterpieces. Not possessing the necessary 
means, I am writing to ask if you would not give 
me an employment of any kind, even in the 
service of the royal motor-cars (for I know how 
to drive a motor), so that I may be enabled, 
in my spare time, to visit the monuments and 
picture-galleries and to perfect myself in my 
art. 

" Pray accept, etc., 

" Louis S , 

" at the Cafe du Capitole, Toulouse." 



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Here is a letter of another description : 

" To Her Majesty Queen Helena. 
" Madam, 

" You are the mother of two pretty 
babies : for this reason, I have the honour of 
sending you herewith two boxes of lacteal fari- 
naceous food, of my own invention, for infants of 
tender years. It is a wonderful strengthening 
and tonic diet, and I feel that I am doing Your 
Majesty a service in sending you these samples. 
You are sure to order more. 

" In the hope of receiving these orders, I am, 
" Your Majesty's respectful servant, 
" Dr. F. J., 
" Rue de la Liberie, NImes." 



These few specimens of correspondence will 
suffice to give an idea of the harmless and some- 
times comical literature that found its way every 
morning into the royal letter-bag. I must not, 
however, omit to mention, among the humorous 
incidents that marked the sovereign's journey, 
an amusing mistake which occurred on the day of 
their arrival in Paris. 

It was about half-past six in the evening. Our 
royal guests had that moment left the Foreign 
Office, to pay their first official visit to the Presi- 
dent of the Republic, when a cab stopped outside 
the strictly-guarded gate. An old gentleman, 
very tall, with a long white beard and very simply 
174 



THE KING AND QUEEN OF ITALY 

dressed, alighted and was about to walk in with a 
confident step. 

Three policemen rushed to prevent him : 

" Stop ! " they cried. " No one is allowed in 
here." 

" Oh," said the stranger, " but I want to see 
the King of Italy ! " 

" And who may you be ? " 

" The King of the Belgians." 

They refused to believe him. When he per- 
sisted, however, they went in search of an official, 
who at once came and proffered the most abject 
apologies. Picture the faces of the policemen ! 

As I have said, the King and Queen of Italy 
stayed only three days in Paris. 

" We will come back again," the Queen pro- 
mised, when she stepped into the train, radiant at 
the reception which had been given her. 

They have not returned so far. 



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CHAPTER VI 

GEORGE I. KING OF THE HELLENES 



In one of the drawers of my desk lies a bundle 
of letters which I preserve carefully, adding to 
it, from time to time, as each fresh letter arrives. 
They are written in a neat and dainty hand, 
almost like a woman's; the paper is of very 
ordinary quality and bears no crown nor mono- 
gram ; and the emblem stamped on the red wax 
with which the envelopes are sealed looks as 
though it had been selected on purpose to baffle 
indiscreet curiosity : it represents a head of 
Minerva wearing her helmet. 

And yet this correspondence is very interesting ; 
and I believe that an historian would set great 
store by it, not only because it would supply 
him with valuable particulars concerning certain 
events of our own time, but also because it 
reveals the exquisite feeling of one of the most 
attractive of sovereigns, the youthfulness of his 
mind, and the reasons why a royal crown may 
sometimes seem heavy even under the radiant 
skies of Greece. 

It is nearly twenty years since I first met the 
176 



GEORGE I. KING OF THE HELLENES 

writer of those letters, the King of the Hellenes ; 
and, since then, I have watched over his safety 
on the occasion of most of his visits to 
France. This long acquaintance enabled me to 
win his gracious kindness, while he has my affec- 
tionate devotion. I often take the liberty of 
writing to him, when he is in his own dominions ; 
he never fails to reply with regularity; and 
our correspondence forms, as it were, a sequel to 
our familiar talks, full of good-humour and 
charm, begun at Aix-les-Bains, in Paris, or in the 
train. 

It would be making a childish remark to say 
that King George loves France : the frequency 
of his visits makes the fact too obvious. He 
does more than evince a warm admiration 
for our country : this Danish prince, who 
has worn the Greek crown for over eight- 
and-forty years, is, as was his late brother- 
in-law, King Edward VII., the most Parisian of 
our foreign guests. His Parisianism shows itself 
not only in the elegant ease with which he 
speaks our language : it is seen in his turn of 
mind, which is essentially that of the man-about- 
town, and in his figure, which is slender and 
strong, tall and graceful, like that of one of our 
cavalry-officers. The quick shrewdness that 
lurks behind his fair, military moustache is also 
peculiarly French; and the touch of fun which 
is emphasized by a constant twitching of the 
eyes and lips, and which finds an outlet in 

felicitous phrases and unexpected sallies, is just 
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MY ROYAL CLIENTS 

of the sort that makes people say of us that we 
are the most satirical people on the face of the 
earth. 

King George's " fun," at any rate, is never 
cruel; and, if his chaff sometimes becomes a 
little caustic, at least it is always, if I may say so, 
to the point. 

For instance, at the commencement of his 
reign, when he found himself grappling with the 
first internal difficulties, one of the leaders of the 
parliamentary opposition, which was very anxious 
for the fall of the ministry so that it might itself 
take office, came to him and said, with false and 
deceitful melancholy : 

" Ah, Sir, if you only had a minister ! " 

" A minister ? " replied the King, with feigned 
surprise. " Why, I have seven at least ! " 

The King was brought up in the admirable 
school of simplicity, rectitude and kindness of 
his father, King Christian, and familiarized, 
from his early youth, with all the tortuous paths 
of the political maze. When the fall of King 
Otho placed him, by the greatest of accidents, 
on the throne of Greece, he brought with him 
not only the influence of his numberless illustrious 
alliances and the fruits of a timely experience 
gained in that marvellous observation-post which 
the court of Denmark supplies : he also brought 
the qualities of his frigid and well-balanced 
northern temperament to that nation which does 
not require the stimulant of its Patras wine to 
become hot-headed. 
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GEORGE I. KING OF THE HELLENES 

And what difficult times the King has passed 
through ! 

The King of Saxony, visiting Corfu one day, 
said to him, the next morning : 

" Upon my word, it must be charming to be 
king of this paradise ! " 

" You must never repeat that wish," replied 
King George, without hesitation. " I have been 
its king for thirty years; and I speak as one 
who knows ! " 

Events that have followed since have amply 
justified the bitterness of this outburst, which I 
find renewed in the King's letters. And yet, 
grave though the situation has been of recent 
years, I do not believe that the Greek crown is 
in danger. The Greeks, without distinction of 
party, recognize the great services their ruler has 
rendered to the national cause, which he has 
guarded for the past ten years in the European 
chancelleries with indefatigable zeal and eloquence. 

" I never met a more persuasive nor an abler 
diplomatist," said M. Clemenceau, last year, after 
a visit which he had received from George I. 

His ability has not only consisted in guarding 
his country against the ambitious projects of 
Turkey by placing her under the protection of 
the Powers interested in preserving the status quo 
in the east; it has been proved by the ease with 
which he effects his ends amid the party quarrels 
that envenom political life in Greece. Guided 
by his native common-sense and a remarkable 
knowledge of mankind, he has made it his study, 
N2 179 



MY ROYAL CLIENTS 

in governing, to let people do and say what they 
please, at least to an extent that enables him 
never to find himself in open opposition to the 
love of independence and the easily- offended self- 
respect of his subjects; and he has realized that 
what was required was an uncommon readiness 
to give way, rather than inflexible principles. 

For the rest, it must be admitted that, although 
the Greek nation is sometimes tiresome and 
endowed with faults and weaknesses which are 
purely racial and temperamental, on the other 
hand it is generous and impulsive to a degree; 
and its touchy pride is only the effect of an 
ardent patriotism which is sometimes manifested 
in the most amusing ways. 

For instance, when Greece, not long ago, 
revived an ancient and picturesque tradition 
and decided to restore the Olympic Games and 
when it became evident that these would draw 
large numbers of foreigners to Athens, the pick- 
pockets held a meeting and pledged themselves, 
one and all, to suspend hostilities as long as the 
games lasted, in order to protect the reputation 
of the country. They even took care to inform 
the public of the resolution which they had 
passed ; and they did more : they kept their 
word, with this unprecedented result, that the 
police had a holiday, thanks to the strike of the 
thieves ! 

A year or two ago, Mme. Jacquemaire, a 
daughter of M. Clemenceau, then prime minister 
of France, made a journey to Greece. Returning 
180 



GEORGE I. KING OF THE HELLENES 

by rail from Athens to the Piraeus, where she was 
to take ship for Trieste, she missed her travelling- 
bag, containing her jewels. This valuable piece 
of luggage had evidently been stolen; and she 
lost no time in lodging a complaint with the 
harbour-police, although she was convinced of 
the uselessness of the step. The quest instituted 
was, in fact, vain. But, meanwhile, the press had 
seized upon the incident and stirred up public 
opinion, which was at that time persuaded that 
M. Clemenceau, whose Philhellenic leanings are 
notorious, had promised the Greek government 
his support in its efforts to obtain the annexation 
of Crete. The daughter of the man upon whom 
the Greeks based such hopes as these must not, 
people said, be allowed to take an unfavour- 
able impression of Greek hospitality away with 
her. The newspapers published strongly-worded 
articles, entreating the unknown thief, if he was 
a Greek, to give up the profits of his larceny and 
to perform a noble and unselfish act; placards 
posted on the walls of Athens and the Piraeus 
made vehement appeals to his patriotism. 
Twenty-four hours later, the police received the 
bag and its contents untouched ; and they were 
restored to Mme. Jacquemaire on her arrival at 
Trieste. 



The pilot's trade is a hard one when you have 
to steer through continual rocks, to keep a 
constant eye upon a turbulent crew, and to look 

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MY ROYAL CLIENTS 

out for the " squalls " which are perpetually 
beating from the always stormy horizon in 
the east. It is easily understood that King 
George should feel a longing, when events permit, 
to go to other climes in search of a short diversion 
from his absorbing responsibilities. 

" You see," King Leopold of the Belgians said 
to me, one day, " our real rest lies in forgetting 
who we are." 

And yet it cannot be said the distractions and 
the rest which King George knew that he would 
find among us were the only object of the journeys 
across Europe which he made annually until 
the year before last. He always carried a diplo- 
matist's dispatch-box among his luggage; he is 
one of those whose believe that a sovereign can 
travel for his country while travelling for pleasure : 

" I am my own ambassador," he often said to 
me. 

The King used to come to us generally at the 
beginning of the autumn, on his way to and from 
Copenhagen, where he never omitted to visit his 
father, King Christian, and his sisters, Queen 
Alexandra and the Empress Marie Feodorovna. 
He delighted in this annual gathering, which 
collected round the venerable grandsire, under the 
tall trees of Fredensborg, the largest and most 
illustrious family that the world contains, a 
family over which the old King's ascendancy and 
authority remained so great that his children, 
were they emperors or kings, dared not go into 
Copenhagen without first asking his leave. 
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GEORGE I. KING OF THE HELLENES 

' When I am down there, I feel as if I were 
still a little boy," King George used to say, 
laughing. 

In France, he was a young man. He divided 
his stay between Aix-les-Bains and Paris; and 
in Paris, as at Aix, he had but one thought in his 
head : to avoid all official pomp and ceremony. 
He would have been greatly distressed if he had 
been treated too obviously as a sovereign; and, 
when he accepted the inevitable official dinner to 
which the President of the Republic always 
invited him, he positively refused the royal 
salute. When at Aix, he used to yield to the 
necessity of attending the festivities which the 
authorities of that charming watering-place, 
where he was very popular, arranged in his 
honour; but only because he did not wish to 
wound any one's feelings, however slightly. And, 
when invited to go to some display of fireworks : 

"Come ! " he would sigh. " Another party in 
my honour ! " 

Other business detained me ; and I had not the 

privilege of being attached to his person during 

his first stay at Aix. The French government 

sent two commissaries from Lyons to watch 

over his safety ; and these worthy functionaries, 

who had never been charged with a mission of 

this kind before, lived in a continual state of 

alarm. To them, guarding a king meant never 

to lose sight of him, to follow him step by step 

like a prisoner, to spy upon his movements as 

though he were a felon. They ended by driving 

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MY ROYAL CLIENTS 

our guest mad : no sooner had he left his bed- 
room than two shadows fastened on his heels 
and never quitted him ; if he went to a restaurant, 
to the casino, to the theatre, two stern, motionless 
faces appeared in front of him, four suspicious 
eyes peered into his least action. It was of no 
avail for him to try to throw the myrmidons off 
the scent, to look for back-doors by which to 
escape them : there was no avoiding them ; 
they were always there. He made a discreet 
complaint and I was asked to replace them. 

" You are very welcome," he said, when I 
arrived. " Your colleagues from Lyons made such 
an impression on me that I ended by taking 
myself for an assassin ! " 

To my mind, the mission of guarding this 
particularly unaffected and affable king was 
neither a very absorbing nor a very thankless 
task. At Aix, where he walked about from 
morning to night like any ordinary private per- 
son, everybody knew him. There was never the 
least need for me to consult the reports of my 
inspectors; the saunterers, the shopkeepers, the 
peasants made it their business to keep me 
informed : 

" Monsieur le Roi," they would say, " has 
just passed this way; he went down that 
turning." 

Then I would see a familiar form twenty yards 
ahead, stick in hand, Homburg hat on one ear, 
the slim, brisk figure clad in a light-grey suit, 
strolling down the street, or looking into a shop- 
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GEORGE I. KING OF THE HELLENES 

window, or stopping in the midst of a group of 
workmen. It was " Monsieur le Roi." 

" Monsieur le Roi " had even become " Mon- 
sieur Georges " to the pretty laundresses whom 
he greeted with a pleasant "Good-morning" when 
he passed them at their wash-tubs on his way 
to the bathing establishment. For he carefully 
followed the cure of baths and douches which 
his trusty physician, Dr. Guillard, prescribed for 
his arthritis. He left the hotel early every 
morning and walked to the baths, taking a road 
that leads through one of the oldest parts oi Aix. 
The inhabitants of that picturesque corner came 
to know him so well by sight that they ended by 
treating him as a friendly neighbour. Whenever 
he entered the Rue du Puits-d'Enfer, the street- 
boys would stop playing and receive him with 
merry cheers, to which he replied by flinging 
handfuls of coppers to them. The news of his 
approach flew from door to door till it reached 
the laundry. . . Forthwith, the girls stopped the 
rhythmic beat of their " dollies " ; the songs 
ceased on their lips; they quickly wiped the 
lather from their hands on a corner of their 
skirts or aprons and came out of doors, while 
their fresh young voices gave him the familiar 
greeting : 

" Good-morning, M. Georges ! Three cheers 
for M. Georges ! " 

They chatted for a bit; the King amused 
himself by asking questions, joking, replying; 
then, touching the brim of his felt hat, he went 

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MY ROYAL CLIENTS 

his way, with the bright voices calling after him, 
prettily : 

" Au revoir, M. Georges ! . . . Till to-morrow ! " 

He enjoyed this morning call before getting 
into the " deep bath " reserved for him ; and he 
himself was popular in and around the laundry 
in the Rue du Puits-d'Enfer, not only because of 
his good-nature and good-humour, but because 
the girls had more than once experienced the 
benefits of his unostentatious generosity. 

His days at Aix, as in Paris, were regulated 
with mathematical precision : George I. is a 
living chronometer. After making his daily 
pilgrimage to the baths, he returned to the hotel, 
read his telegrams, dipped into the French and 
English newspapers and worked with his master 
of the household, Count Cernovitz, or with his 
equerry, General de Reineck, or else with M. 
Delyanni, the deeply-regretted Greek minister to 
Paris, whom he honoured with a great affection 
and who always joined his royal master at 
Aix-les-Bains. 

From eleven to twelve in the morning, he 
generally gave audiences, either to the authorities 
of Aix, with whom he maintained cordial rela- 
tions, 01 to strangers of note who were presented 
to him during his stay. When he kept a few 
people to lunch — which often happened — they 
had to resign themselves to leaving their appetite 
unsatisfied. The King ate very little in the day- 
time and not only ordered a desperately frugal 

menu, but himself touched nothing except the 
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GEORGE I. KING OF THE HELLENES 

hors-d'oeuvre. His visitors naturally thought 
themselves obliged,, out of deference, to imitate 
his example, the more so as, otherwise, they ran 
the risk of having their mouths full at the 
moment when they had to reply to the King's 
frequent questions. His regular guests, there- 
fore, the prefect and the mayor, knowing by 
experience what was in store for him, had 
adopted a system which was both practical and 
ingenious : whenever they were invited to the 
royal table, they lunched before they came. 

In the evening, on the other hand, His Majesty 
made a hearty meal. He always dined in the 
public room of the restaurant of the Casino, with 
his medical adviser and some friends ; and, when 
Dr. Guillard cried out against the excessive 
number of courses which the royal host was fond 
of ordering : 

" Don't be angry with me," he replied. " I 
don't order them for myself, but for the good of 
the house : if the restaurant didn't make a profit 
out of me, where would it be ? " 

After dinner, he took us with him either to the 
gaming-rooms or to the theatre. Although the 
King did not play himself, it amused him to stroll 
round the tables, to watch the expression of the 
gamblers and to observe the numberless typical 
incidents that always occur among such a cosmo- 
politan crowd as that consisting of the frequenters 
of our watering-places. He also loved to hear 
the gossip of the place, to know all about the 
petty intrigues, the little domestic tragedies 

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Lastly, he liked making the acquaintance of any 
well-known actor or actress who happened to be 
passing through Aix. 

But our guest did more than show his liking 
for the shining lights of the profession : he 
numbered friends also among the humbler per- 
formers at the Grand Theatre. Sabadon, the 
good, jolly, indescribable Sabadon, who for 
twenty years had sung first " heavy bass " at the 
theatre of the town, was one of them. This is 
how I discovered the fact : when the King came 
to Aix, some years ago, Sabadon shouldered his 
way to the front row of the spectators who were 
waiting outside the station to see His Majesty 
arrive. The enthusiastic crowd kept on shouting, 
" Long live King George ! " and Sabadon, with 
his powerful voice — his " heavy bass " voice — 
which had filled all the " grand theatres " in the 
provinces, Sabadon, with his southern accent 
(he was from Toulouse), shouted louder than all 
the rest and, so that he might shout more freely, 
had taken a step forward. 

But a policeman was watching; and fearing 
lest the royal procession should be disturbed by 
this intrusive person, he walked up to him and, 
in a bullying tone, said : 

"Get back; and look sharp about it. You 
don't imagine that you're going to stand in the 
King's road, do you ? " 

Sabadon, who is a hot-blooded fellow, like all 
the men from his part of the country, was about 
to reply with one of those forcible and pungent 
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GEORGE I. KING OF THE HELLENES 

outbursts which are the very salt of the Gascon 
speech : 

" You low, rascally . . . " he began. 

But he had no time to finish. The King 
appeared at the entrance to the railway-station, 
came across and, as he passed, said : 

" Hullo, M. Sabadon ! How do you do, M. 
Sabadon ? Are they * biting ' this year ? ,! 

" Yes, Sir, Your Majesty. And your family ? 
Keeping well, I hope ? That's right ! '' 

Then, when the King had disappeared, Sabadon 
turned to the astounded policeman : 

" What do you say to that, my son ? Flabber- 
gasts you, eh ? " 

How did the King come to know the singer ? 
And why had he asked with so much interest if 
" they were ' biting ' this year ? " One of the local 
papers reported the incident and supplied the 
explanation, which I did not trouble to verify, 
but which is so amusing and, at the same time, 
so probable that I give it for what it is worth. 

The King, it seems, who often walked to the 
Lac du Bourget, a few miles from Aix, thought 
that he would try his hand at fishing, one after- 
noon. Taking the necessary tackle with him, 
he sat down on the shore of the lake and cast his 
line. Ten minutes, twenty minutes passed. Not 
a bite. The King felt the more annoyed as, 
thirty yards from where he was, a man — a 
stranger like himself— was pulling up his line at 
every moment, with a trout or a bream wriggling 
at the end of it. 

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The disheartened King ended by deciding to go 
to the angler and ask him how he managed to 
catch so many fish ! But, before he was able to 
say a word, the man stood up, bowed with great 
ceremony and, in a stentorian voice, said : 

" Sir, Your Majesty ..." 

" What ! Do you know me ? " asked the 
King. 

" Sir, Your Majesty, let me introduce myself : 
Sabadon, second heavy bass at the Theatre du 
Capitole of Toulouse, at this moment first chorus- 
leader at the Theatre Municipal of Aix-les-Bains. 
... I have seen you in the stage-box." 

" Ah ! " said the King, taken aback. " But 
please explain to me why you get so many fish, 
whereas ..." 

" Habit, Sir, Your Majesty, a trick of the hand 
and personal fascination ; it needs an education : 
I got mine at Pinsaquel, near Toulouse, at the 
junction of the Ariege and the Gavonne. . . . Ah, 
Pinsaquel ! " 

And Sabadon's voice was filled with all the 
pangs of home-sickness : 

" Have you never been to Pinsaquel ? You 
ought to go : it's the angler's paradise." 

" Certainly, I will go there one day. But, 
meanwhile, I shall be returning with an empty 
basket." 

" Never, not if I know it ! Take my place, Sir, 
Your Majesty, each time I say ' Hop ! ' pull up 
your line . . . and tell me what you think of it ! " 

The King, mightily amused by the adven- 
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GEORGE I. KING OF THE HELLENES 

ture, followed his instructions. In three minutes 
Sabadon's tremendous voice gave the signal : 

" Hop ! " 

It was a trout. And the fishing proceeded, in 
an almost miraculous manner. 

As they walked back to the town together, an 
hour later, Sabadon took the opportunity to 
expound to the King the cause of his grudge 
against Meyerbeer, the composer : 

" You must understand, Sir, Your Majesty, 
that, at the Toulouse theatre, it was I who used 
to play the night-watchman in the Huguenots. 
I had to cross the stage with a lantern; and, 
as I am very popular at Toulouse, I used to 
receive a wonderful ovation : ' Bravo, Sabadon ! 
Hurrah for Sabadon ! ' Just as when you came 
to Aix, Sir, Your Majesty. . . . Well, in spite of 
that, the manager absolutely refused to let me 
take a call, because the music didn't lend itself 
to it ! I ask you, Sir, Your Majesty, if that lout 
of a Meyerbeer couldn't have let me cross the 
stage a second time ! " 



King George, who, like most reigning sove- 
reigns, is an indefatigable walker, used to start 
out every day in the late afternoon and come 
back just before dinner-time. He nearly always 
took a member of his suite with him ; one of my 
inspectors would follow him. All the peasants 
round Aix knew the King by sight and raised 

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their caps as he passed. He is very young in 
mind — in this respect, he has remained the mid- 
shipman of his boyhood — and he sometimes 
amused himself by playing a trick on the com- 
panion of his walk. For instance, as soon as he 
saw that his equerry, after covering a reasonable 
number of miles, was beginning, if I may so 
express myself, to hang out signals of distress, 
the King suggested that they should turn into a 
roadside public-house for a drink : 

" They keep a certain small wine of the country 
here," he said, " which has a flavour all of 
its own; but you must drink it down at a 
draught." 

The other, whether he were thirsty or not, 
dared not refuse. They therefore entered the 
inn and the King had a tumbler filled with the 
famous nectar and handed it to his equerry, 
taking good care not to drink any himself. It 
was, in point of fact, a piquette, or sour wine, with 
a taste " all of its own " and resembling nothing 
so much as vinegar; and the King's guest, when 
he had emptied his glass, could not help pulling 
a frightful face. He dared not, however, be so 
disrespectful as to complain ; and, when the King, 
who had enjoyed the scene enormously, asked, 
in a very serious voice : 

" Delicious, isn't it ? " 

" Oh, delicious ! " the equerry replied, with an 
air of conviction. 

You must not, however, think that the King's 
practical jokes were always inhuman. Most often, 
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GEORGE I. KING OF THE HELLENES 

they bore witness, under a superficial appearance 
of mischief, to his discriminating kindness of 
heart. 

I remember, in this connection, once going to 
meet him at the frontier-station of Culoz, through 
which he was passing on his way from Geneva 
to Aix. The members of his suite and I had left 
him alone, for a few moments, while we went to 
buy some books and newspapers which he had 
asked for. As he was walking up and down the 
platform, he saw a good woman at the door of a 
third-class railway-carriage, a plump, red-faced 
sort of peasant-woman, who was making vain 
efforts to open the door and fuming with anger 
and impatience. Suddenly catching sight of the 
King, who stood looking at her : 

" Hi, there, Mr. Porter ! " she cried. " Come 
and help me, can't you ? " 

The King ran up, opened the carriage-door and 
received the fat person in his arms. Next, she 
said : 

" Fetch me out my basket of vegetables and 
my bundle." 

The King obediently executed her commands. 
At that moment we appeared upon the platform 
. . . and, to our amazement, saw King George 
carrying the basket under one arm and the 
bundle under the other. He made a sign to me 
not to move. He carried the luggage to the 
waiting-room, took a ticket for the fair traveller, 
who was changing her train, and refused to accept 
payment for it, in spite of her insistence. . . . 
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What a pleasant recollection she must have of the 
porters at Culoz Station ! 

Here is another adventure, which happened at 
Aix. The King had the habit, on leaving the 
Casino in the evening, to go back with me in the 
hotel omnibus, which was reserved for his use : 
he found this easier than taking a cab. One 
evening, just as we were about to step in, a 
visitor staying at the hotel, a foreign lady, not 
knowing that the omnibus was reserved exclu- 
sively for the King, went in before us, sat down 
and waited for the 'bus to start. As I was about 
to ask her to get out : 

" Let her be," said the King. " She's not in 
our way." 

We got inside, in our turn ; I sat down opposite 
the King; the omnibus started; the lady did 
not move. Suddenly, the King broke silence 
and spoke to me; I replied, using, of course, 
the customary forms of " Sire " and " Your 
Majesty." 

Thereupon the lady looked at us in dismay, 
flung herself against the window, tapped at it 
and called out : 

" What have I done ? Heavens, what have I 
done ? " she cried. " I am in the King's omni- 
bus ! Stop ! Stop ! " 

And, turning to the King, with a theatrical 
gesture : 

" Pardon, Sire." 

The King was seized with a fit of laughter, in 
the midst of which he did his best to reassure her : 
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GEORGE I. KING OF THE HELLENES 

" I entreat you, madam, calm yourself ! You 
have nothing to fear : a king is not an epidemic 
disease ! " 

The good lady quieted down; but we reached 
the hotel without being able to extract a word 
from her paralyzed throat. 

In this respect, she did not resemble the 
majority of her sisters of the fair sex, before whose 
imperious and charming despotism we have 
bowed since the days of our father Adam. As 
a matter of fact, no sovereign that I know of ever 
aroused more affectionate curiosity in female 
circles than King George. The glamour of 
his rank had something to say to this, no 
doubt; but I have reason to believe that the 
elegance of his person, the affability of his 
manners, and the conquering air of his moustache 
were not wholly unconnected with it. Whether 
leaving his hotel, or entering the restaurant or 
one of the rooms of the Casino, or appearing in 
the paddock at the races, which he attended 
regularly, he was at once the cynosure of every 
pair of beaming eyes and the object of cunning 
manoeuvres on the part of their fair owners, 
who were anxious to approach him and to find 
out what a king is made of when you see him at 
close quarters. No man is quite insensible to 
such advances. At the same time, George I. 
was too clever to be taken in : he was amused at 
the homage paid him and accepted it in his usual 
spirit of bantering, but polite, coyness. 

For the rest, he led a very quiet, very methodi- 
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cal and rather monotonous life, both at Aix and 
in Paris; for to the character of this sovereign, 
as to that of most others, there is a " middle- 
class " side that displays itself in harmless 
eccentricities. For instance, King George, when 
he travels abroad, always goes to the same hotel, 
occupies the same rooms, and is so averse to 
change that he likes every piece of furniture to 
be in exactly the same place where he last left 
it. I shall never forget my astonishment when, 
entering the King's bedroom a few moments after 
his arrival at the Hotel Bristol in Paris, I caught 
him bodily moving a heavy Louis XV. chest of 
drawers, which he carried across the room with 
the help of his physician : 

" You see," he said, " it used to stand by the 
fire-place and they have shifted it to the window, 
so I am putting it back." 



4 

I have spoken of my duties with regard to this 
monarch as an agreeable sinecure. But I was 
exaggerating. Once, when I was with him at 
Aix, I had a terrible alarm. I was standing 
beside him, in the evening, in the petits-chevaucc 
room at the Casino, when one of my inspectors 
slipped a note into my hand. It was to inform 
me that an individual of Roumanian nationality, 
a rabid Grecophobe, had arrived at Aix, with, it 
was feared, the intention of killing the King. 
There was no further clue. 
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GEORGE I. KING OF THE HELLENES 

I was in a very unpleasant predicament. I 
did not like to tell the King, for fear of spoiling 
his stay. To go just then in search of further 
details would have been worse still : there could 
be no question of leaving the King alone. How 
could I discover the man ? For all I knew, he 
was quite near; and, instinctively, I scrutinized 
carefully all the people who crowded round us, 
kept my eyes fixed on those who seemed to be 
staring too persistently at the King and watched 
every movement of the players. 

At daybreak the next morning, I set to work 
and started enquiries. I had no difficulty in 
discovering my man. He was a Roumanian 
student and had put up at a cheap hotel ; he was 
said to be rather excitable in his manner, if not 
in his language. I could not arrest him as long 
as I had no definite charge to bring against him. 
I resolved to have him closely shadowed by the 
Aix police ; and I myself arranged never to stir 
a foot from the King's side. Things went on 
like this for several days : the King knew nothing 
and the Roumanian neither; but I would gladly 
have bought him a railway-ticket to get rid of him. 

Presently, however, one of my inspectors came 
to me, wearing a terrified look : 

" We've lost the track of the Roumanian ! " he 
declared. 

" You are mad ! " I cried. 

" No, would that I were ! He has left his 
hotel unnoticed by any of us ; and we don't know 
what has become of him." 

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I flew into a rage and at once ordered a search 
to be made for him. It was labour lost : there 
was not a trace of him to be found. 

For once, I was seriously uneasy. I resolved 
to tell the whole story to the King, so that he 
might allow himself to be quietly guarded. But 
he merely shrugged his shoulders and laughed : 

" You see, Paoli," he said, " I am a fatalist. 

If my hour has come, neither you nor I can avoid 

it; and I am certainly not going to let a trifle 

of this kind spoil my holiday. Besides, it is not 

the first time that I have seen danger close at 

hand ; and I assure you that I am not afraid. 

Look here, a few years ago, I was returning one 

day with my daughter to my castle of Tatoi, near 

Athens. We were driving without an escort. 

Suddenly, happening to turn my head, I saw a 

rifle-barrel pointed at us from the roadside, 

gleaming between the leaves of the bushes. I 

leaped up and instantly flung myself in front of 

my daughter. The rifle followed me. I said 

to myself, ' It's all over; I'm a dead man.' And 

what do you think I did ? I have never been 

able to explain why, but I began to count aloud — 

4 One, two, three ' — it seemed an age ; and I 

was just going to say, ' Four,' when the shot was 

fired. I closed my eyes. The bullet whistled 

past my ears. The startled horses ran away, we 

were saved and I thought no more about it. So 

do not let us alarm ourselves before the event, 

my dear Paoli : we will wait and see what 

happens." 

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GEORGE I. KING OF THE HELLENES 

I admired the King's fine coolness, of course ; 
but I was none the easier in my mind, for all that. 
. . . Still, the King was right, this time, and I was 
wrong : we never heard anything more about the 
mysterious Roumanian. 



George I. has preserved none but agreeable 
recollections of his different visits to Aix. In 
evidence of this, I will only mention the regret 
which he expressed to me, in one of his last 
letters, that the Greek crisis prevented him from 
making his usual trip to France in 1909 : 

" Here, where duty keeps me — nobody knows 
for how long — I often think of my friends at 
Aix, of my friends in France, whom I should so 
much like to see again ; of that beautiful country, 
of our walks and talks. . . . But life is made up of 
little sacrifices : they do not count, if we succeed 
in attaining the object which we pursue; and 
mine is to ensure for my people the happiness 
which they deserve." 

The King has depicted his very self in those 
few words : I know no better portrait of him. 



199 



CHAPTER VII 

KING EDWARD VII 



I cannot open this chapter without a feeling 
of the saddest emotion. Little did I think, when 
I was preparing to write it, that I should have to 
speak in the past tense of the sovereign of whom 
it treats ! 

King Edward was still at Biarritz. He had 
made only a short stay, of twenty-four hours, in 
Paris on his way to the Basque coast; and I did 
not have time to call and pay my respects to 
His Majesty, in accordance with my habit. I 
therefore ventured to write and tell him that it 
was my intention to devote a few pages of my 
Memoirs to him, if he authorized me to do so. 
With his usual kindness, he at once sent a reply 
to say that he would be pleased to read what I 
had written, when he returned through Paris, 
and to point out any inaccuracies that might have 
slipped in unawares, even as he had read my book 
on Queen Victoria and corrected it with his own 
hand. Alas ! He was never to visit Paris again; 
politics summoned him hastily back to London, 
where death awaited him. 

The void which he leaves behind him in Europe 
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KING EDWARD VII 

and, I may safely say, in the whole world is so 
great that I doubt if it can ever be filled in the 
French hearts which he had conquered by the 
charm of his easy good-nature, by the absolutely 
Latin quickness of his intellect, and by the con- 
stant and faithful friendship which he had shown 
us. His death came upon France almost in the 
light of a family loss; and it was felt as such 
especially by myself, for I had transferred to the 
son the respectful attachment which I had always 
borne to the mother. 

When I begin to consult my reminiscences of 
the regretted sovereign, one memory, a very 
distant one, crops up at the sound of Edward 
VII. 's name as though it dated back to yesterday, 
instead of to 1877. I had just been appointed 
special commissary at Nice and had entered 
upon my functions, one morning in April, on the 
station platform, by watching the arrival of the 
express from Paris. Suddenly my attention was 
attracted to a traveller, followed by a great, 
tall footman, who was trying to reach the exit 
in the midst of a noisy, hurrying, cosmopolitan 
crowd. 

The traveller was a powerfully-built, broad- 
shouldered man, with an expansive face tapering 
into a short fair beard. His features were open 
and prepossessing. His gait was supple and his 
bearing one of supreme ease under the faultless 
cut of his navy-blue serge suit. Everything 
about him pointed to a love of sober elegance and 
subtle refinement in dress : his skilfully-tied 

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sailor's knot; his rich silk handkerchief, pro- 
truding slightly from the pocket of his jacket; 
the gold-knobbed malacca under his arm and the 
fragrant havana between his lips ; the very pale- 
grey felt hat, which he wore a little to the left 
side of his head ; his yellow-suede gloves sewn with 
black stitching on the backs. But what struck 
me most of all was the clearness of the blue-grey 
eyes, which were very prominent, under their 
heavy lids. 

" You know who that is, of course ? " asked the 
station-master. 

44 I do not," said I. 

" Take a good look at him, then. You will see 
him very often : it is the Prince of Wales." 

And, as I was going to step forward to clear a 
road for His Royal Highness to his carriage : 

" Don't do that," said the station-master, 
44 don't do that. Your display of zeal would 
only annoy him. Besides, he knows everybody 
at Nice and everybody adores him." 

I was presented to the prince the next day. 
The first remark he made to me was : 

44 We have the tomb of General Paoli, the 
celebrated outlaw, in Westminster Abbey, among 
our famous dead. He fought against England 
long before Corsica belonged to France. Are you 
a relation ? " 

44 He was one of my ancestors, sir." 

44 As you see, we have honoured his great 
memory. I am very glad to meet one of his 
descendants." 
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KING EDWARD VII 

I did not suspect, at that time, that I should 
one day become " the official guardian of the 
kings," to use the expression of the King of the 
Hellenes. Until then, my various detective duties 
had been limited to keeping anarchists and other 
more or less suspicious persons under observation. 
Since the advent of the Republic, the sovereigns of 
Europe had forgotten their way to France; the 
grand-dukes had not yet taken to visiting us; 
princes in general were distrustful. Our patriotic 
self-esteem was all the more indebted to the heir 
to the British crown for the frequency of his 
visits. He had been our friend in need; and we 
were duly grateful to him. And we also appre- 
ciated his wonderful tact, thanks to which he was 
the only prince who could allow himself to lunch 
at the Jockey Club and dine at the filysee, to pay 
calls in the Faubourg Saint-Germain and receive 
the visits of Gambe+ta, without wounding sus- 
ceptibilities ever ready to take offence. 



The fact is that no one possessed the art of 

differentiation and the true sense of proportion 

to the same extent as the Prince. It was a 

keyboard on which he played with incomparable 

skill. His way of taking off his hat, of 

shaking hands, his smile, the intonation of 

his voice, his acts, his words : all these were, 

if I may so express myself, accommodated with 

infinite delicacv to the person whom he was 

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addressing, to the surroundings in which he found 
himself, to the exact meaning which he wished a 
given act or a given word to bear. He was more 
than the right man in the right place : he was the 
right man in every place. A fine gentleman in 
the strictest sense of the word, he knew how to 
remain a prince while stooping to intimacy and 
even familiarity, and to make those who might 
have been tempted to forget the fact remember 
it. 

I have an evening in my mind when he was 
chatting in the green-room of the Comedie 
Francaise with Sara Bernhardt and Frederic 
Febvre, the famous comedian. A stranger 
walked up to the group and, without being 
presented to the prince, asked him what he 
thought of the play. The Prince of Wales 
turned round quietly and, with his most pleasant 
smile : 

" I don't think I spoke to you," he replied. 

The stranger turned first red and then pale and 
hastened to apologize. 

The Prince of Wales hated affectation, was 
always natural and was glad to come into touch 
with any one who could teach him something 
new, who could give him a fresh view of life, 
which he loved with an eager curiosity, or 
of society, which he studied incessantly and 
from which he derived an immense amount of 
amusement. 

Respecting established institutions as he did, 
he never allowed himself to comment on the 
204 






KING EDWARD VII 

government or policy of a country; and none 
knew better than he how to turn the conversa- 
tion the moment it was entering on dangerous 
ground. 

He had retained a lively affection for our 
imperial family and always spoke of the Em- 
peror Napoleon III. and the Prince Imperial 
in terms of emotion. He also showed the most 
respectful attachment for the Empress Eugenie : 
each time that he went to the Mediterranean 
when she was staying there, or if he knew her to 
be in Paris while he was there, he never failed to 
pay her one or more long visits. The majesty 
of that inconsolable and silent grief filled him with 
the deepest sympathy. 

Whether or not he had a more marked predi- 
lection for the Bonapartes, this did not prevent 
him from keeping up a regular intercourse with 
the Orleans family and notably with the Due 
d'Aumale : 

" You see, Paoli," he said, one day, " the Due 
d'Aumale is a grandee of the past who has lingered 
on into our own age : he represents the flower of 
exquisite French politeness ; and his learning is so 
extensive and his recollection of things so accurate 
that, every time I talk to him, I feel as if I were 
having a lesson in French history." 

But, though he sometimes liked to revive the 
charms of the past, he was better able than any- 
body to appreciate the interest of the present. 
He neglected no opportunity of becoming 
acquainted with the statesmen and orators of 

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MY ROYAL CLIENTS 

the Third Republic. He held Gambetta in high 
esteem : 

" The first time that I saw him," he said to me, 
one day, " he struck me as so vulgar in his manner 
and so careless of his appearance that I asked 
myself if this was really the man who had dis- 
covered the means of exercising an irresistible 
fascination over the minds of crowds. Then we 
talked. Gambetta expounded his ideas and his 
plans ; and the captivating charm of his eloquence 
made me forget the physical repulsion with which 
he inspired me : I was i carried away ' in my turn, 
like the others. I wanted to see him again; I 
invited him to come to England for Ascot. 
Events prevented him from doing so and he died 
the year after. I was sorry. He was a great 
politician and a wonderful master of words." 

On the other hand, our public men, whatever 
their shade of opinion, found the greatest pleasure 
in talking to the prince. He was not of a com- 
municative temperament, but he was fond of 
discussion and he argued ably and shrewdly, 
contributing to his judgment of men and things 
a soundness of appreciation, a perspicacity and a 
certain attitude of philosophic doubt which are 
characteristic of men who. like himself, have 
long had the habit of seeing, learning and reason- 
ing for themselves. Wherever he might be — 
in a political drawing-room, at the theatre, at 
the club, at the races, at a restaurant — his curi- 
osity was always on the alert; he was eager to 
gather men's views, to observe their attitudes; 
206 



KING EDWARD VII 

he spoke little, but he was very clever at making 
others speak; his gracious simplicity put you at 
your ease ; his loud, jovial laugh inspired you with 
confidence, even as his clear eyes, when he fixed 
them on you with a cold stare, were enough to 
call you to order if you ventured to divert the 
conversation to too slippery a ground. 

I was never attached to his service, properly 
speaking, until after his accession. He hated 
to have people bothering about him ; besides, 
he used to arrive in Paris or at Cannes un- 
announced; and the police supervision exercised 
about his person was so discreet that he did not 
perceive it at all. I can remember only one 
attempt made against his life : this was when the 
famous anarchist Sipido fired a revolver at him, 
through the window of his railway-carriage, in 
Brussels, while he was passing through the 
station with the Princess of Wales. 

In the following year, I was with the prince in 
the selfsame carriage — one of the berlines which 
he was in the habit of using for his journeys on 
the Continent — and he showed me the mark left 
by the bullet in a corner of the ceiling : 

"Look, Paoli," he explained. "The bullet 
entered just here, on the right, smashing the 
window-pane, and, before burying itself in the 
wood, passed across the compartment and nearly 
grazed my hat. I was in serious danger that 
day." And, tapping me on the shoulder, he 
added, gracefully, " Now that would never have 
happened if you had been with me ! " 

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His very noticeable partiality for the south of 
France was due not only to the country and the 
climate, though he appreciated their charm, but 
also to the life of society and sport, which offered 
him more satisfaction and more amusement in 
that exquisite setting than anywhere else. He 
was, in a certain sense, King of the Cote d'Azur, 
where nothing was decided in the matter of 
festivities without his approval and consent. 
He made Cannes his headquarters and the Cercle 
Nautique at Cannes his favourite residence; but 
his kingdom of fashion and pleasure extended 
beyond Nice, as far as Mentone; and all those 
winter-resorts competed for the honour of his 
visits. As a matter of fact, he contributed largely 
towards developing their prosperity by attracting 
an enormous British colony in that direction. 

He even attracted Queen Victoria to the 
Riviera. In the course of the stays which that 
august sovereign made at Nice, Cannes and 
Mentone, I often saw the Prince of Wales. 
Although he did not live in the same town as the 
Queen, he came pretty regularly to call upon her 
and the other members of the royal family. I 
have many a time been in a position to observe 
the attentions which he lavished upon Queen 
Victoria, the very respectful deference which he 
showed -her on all occasions and the scrupulous 
care with which, even on his holiday trips abroad, 
he fulfilled his duties as heir apparent. It 
208 



KING EDWARD VII 

became incumbent upon him, for instance, to 
return the visits which foreign sovereigns and 
princes, staying on the Riviera, never failed to 
pay the venerable Queen. And, as these royal 
visitors were very numerous, the Prince of Wales's 
official drudgery often took up a great deal of his 
time. 

The King absolutely worshipped the memory 
of Queen Victoria, for whom, as a mother, he had 
felt a profound affection, and, as a queen, an 
intense admiration : 

"My mother," he once said to me, "is one of 
the most remarkable politicians of the day." 

For instance, he always had opposite him, on 
his writing-desk, a large photograph representing 
the Queen seated at her table, reading a document. 
This photograph accompanied him wherever he 
went, up to the day of his death : when he stayed 
at an hotel, even for four-and-twenty hours, it 
was the first object which he himself took out of 
his dressing-case and placed on his writing-table. 
On the day after the great sovereign's funeral, 
to which I had the honour of being invited, 
the prince, who had just been proclaimed king, 
said to me, with true emotion, taking both my 
hands : 

" My dear Paoli, I know all the affection which 

my dear mother felt for you and the faithful 

attachment which you have always shown her; 

and I shall never forget it. This memory will be 

a new reason why you may always be sure of my 

sympathy and that of my family." 

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MY ROYAL CLIENTS 

I had imagined that, from the day of his 
ascending the throne, I should have no further 
opportunity of seeing him. But he did not 
sacrifice to his new responsibilities either his 
old friends or his taste for travelling. It is 
true that, when staying on the Continent, he led 
a more sedentary, a more retired life than before ; 
but he knew everything, saw everything and 
kept in touch with everybody whose personality 
interested him. He worked prodigiously, whether 
in the train, on board his yacht, or at the hotel ; 
and he was remarkably skilful in combining 
serious matters with amusement, even as he 
knew how to mingle the most exquisite simplicity 
with that sense of professional and royal dignity 
with which he was so profoundly imbued. 

I may say that it is during these last nine years 
that I have most often had the occasion and the 
opportunity to live in the immediate circle of 
Edward VII. As a matter of fact, I accompanied 
him on all his journeys on French soil; and I will 
now try to recall these more recent memories. 



The King, although fond of travelling, liked 
to have everything arranged and settled before- 
hand. He had inherited his mother's methodical 
mind. He was very particular about the details 
of his journeys and extraordinarily clever at 
ensuring their comfort. As soon as he had 
decided upon going to the Continent — and he 
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KING EDWARD VII 

generally fixed the date two months in advance — 
he began by sending for his courier, M. Fehr. 
M. Fehr was the great organizer of the King's 
travels. He was a Swiss by birth and had begun 
by being a courier in the firm of Thomas Cook & 
Son. In this capacity, he was often entrusted 
with the arrangements for the journeys of the 
Prince of Wales, and he had the good luck to secure 
the prince's favour. This was the starting-point 
of his fortunes. The prince took him into his 
own service; and, when, at last, King Edward 
ascended the throne, M. Fehr, whose ambition 
had never aimed at a higher title than that of 
" Cook's courier," found himself raised to that of 
" the King's courier." 

He did not lose his head in consequence of his 
promotion. He was a highly-intelligent, very 
active and wonderfully able man ; and he knew how 
to arrange all the particulars of a journey, settle 
the whole programme, assume the entire respon- 
sibility and look after his royal master's in- 
terests, without neglecting a single detail. It came 
within his province, in fact, to choose the royal 
residences, to make terms with the railways, to 
engage the King's rooms at the hotels and to 
pay the bills. He was quite ready to fight the 
hotel-keepers when he thought that the charges 
had been " laid on too thick " ; for the matter of 
that, he did not hesitate to insist on reductions 
that sometimes came to as much as fifty per cent. 
His rough appearance and loud way of talking 
made resistance difficult. 

P2 211 



MY ROYAL CLIENTS 

The King's suite, when travelling, was com- 
paratively small. It usually consisted of two 
equerries and a physician. General Stanley 
Clarke long formed part of this little peripatetic 
court in his capacity of chief equerry to the 
King; he was latterly appointed to the office of 
clerk-marshal. The equerries-in-ordinary, who 
took it in turns to accompany His Majesty, were 
Colonel " Fritz " Ponsonby, the son of General 
Sir Henry Ponsonby, who used always to travel 
with Queen Victoria, Colonel Sir Arthur David- 
son, Captain the Hon. Seymour J. Fortescue 
and the Hon. John H. Ward. As for the doctor, 
he was invariably that good Sir James Reid, 
who, with the inexhaustible gaiety that delighted 
the whole court, was the very personification of 
the jovial frankness and blunt loyalty of the 
Scot. 



The staff of servants included two valets and 
two footmen. The first valet, M. Meidinger, 
was an Austrian by birth : he filled, to a certain 
extent, the offices of groom of the chambers and 
butler of the sovereign's household whenever 
His Majesty was travelling incognito. The King, 
whom he had served for eighteen years, was very 
much attached to him and allowed him certain 
familiarities. It was he who woke His Majesty 
every morning ; and, when he entered the room, 
the King, still half asleep, regularly asked him the 
same question : 
212 



KING EDWARD VII 

" What's the weather doing to-day, Meidinger?" 
Meidinger also put out the King's things, 
brought him the newspapers and made sure that 
his royal master had everything that he wanted, 
for the King always dressed alone and even tied 
his own tie, with special care. 

Hawkins, the second valet, was an English- 
man : he looked after all the details to which the 
dignity of the first valet did not allow him to 
stoop. One of his chief duties was to make the 
royal bed. He was better acquainted than 
any one with the King's habits and tastes : he 
knew, for instance, that His Majesty's mattress 
must never be turned on a Friday. This was a 
curious superstition of the King's : it was the only 
one I ever knew him to cherish and he made no 
secret of it. By a strange coincidence, I hear 
that, on the morning of his death, which occurred 
on a Friday, the doctors, forgetting his expressed 
wishes amid the grave cares occasioned by the 
sudden alteration for the worse in his condi- 
tion, ordered his mattress Lo be turned, hoping 
that this would give him a little rest after a 
night of pain : a few minutes before midnight, he 
drew his last breath. ... I hasten to say that I 
have had no opportunity of checking the correct- 
ness of this particular ; but I have it from a trust- 
worthy source. On the other hand, I have 
ascertained — and his superstition about the 
mattress confirms it — that the King always had a 
presentiment that Friday would be a fatal day 
for him. 

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MY ROYAL CLIENTS 

The two footmen who accompanied the King 
when travelling also had settled duties. One of 
them, Hoepfner, was a German and owed his 
brilliant career to his fine carriage. After being 
enlisted in the grenadiers of the guard of the 
Emperor William II., because of his tall stature, 
he soon passed into the service of the Grand-duke 
Michael of Russia, who was in want of a " show " 
footman and did not hesitate to rob the Kaiser's 
army of Hoepfner. When King Edward noticed 
his gigantic height and the correctness of his 
bearing, he took him into his service in his turn. 
Hoepfner waited on the sovereign at table and 
opened the door of the royal apartments, whereas 
the other footman, a British subject called Wel- 
lard, was charged exclusively with the care of 
His Majesty's clothes, boots and dog, an absorbing 
duty when we reflect that the King travelled with 
seventy pieces of luggage, including a countless 
number of Gladstone bags, and that he took with 
him some forty suits of clothes and over twenty 
pairs of boots and shoes. 

There was also the dog. 

Caesar was a person of importance. This 
long-haired, rough-coated, white fox-terrier, with 
the black ears, was not exactly distinguished 
for the aristocratic elegance that marks Queen 
Alexandra's dogs, whose acquaintance I have 
also had the opportunity of making. Caesar 
had rather what we Frenchmen call la beaute du 
diable : he had a strong personality and a quick 
intelligence. He was very independent in his 
214 



KING EDWARD VII 

ways, a little mischievous and playful and deeply 
attached to his royal master, who pampered him 
as one would a child. When the King was 
travelling, Caesar went with him everywhere and 
did not leave him day or night, for he slept in an 
easy-chair to the right of his bed. He was 
present at all the King's meals and willingly 
accepted any bits of meat or sugar which the 
guests offered him. I succeeded in winning his 
good graces and we became first-rate friends. On 
the other hand, once he was out of doors, he cut 
all his acquaintances. Whether on the beach at 
Biarritz or in the Rue de la Paix in Paris, he was 
always seen at the King's heels, proudly dis- 
playing a collar that bore the legend, " I am 
Caesar, the King's dog." And it was as though 
he knew it. 

When Wellard, the second footman, had 
brushed the King's clothes and cleaned the 
King's boots, he proceeded to groom Caesar; 
for the high favour which the terrier enjoyed com- 
pelled him to be always scrupulously clean. Every 
morning, he was washed and combed with care. I 
will not go so far as to swear that he liked it. 
Nevertheless, he submitted to it with resignation. 

The staff of the royal journeys furthermore 
included the motor-mechanic, Stamper, and three 
chauffeurs in charge of the three motor-cars 
which the King took with him on the Continent. 
Lastly, I must not forget to mention the post- 
master, whose functions consisted first of all in 
translating into cipher the telegrams written 

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MY ROYAL CLIENTS 

out by the King and, conversely, in transcribing 
the cipher dispatches received from London. 

He, moreover, received and prepared the govern- 
ment dispatch-boxes which, every other day, 
brought papers for His Majesty to read or sign 
and in which the official documents were carried 
back to London; he also delivered the letters 
addressed to the members of the royal suite and 
staff. 

I have already said that the King was in the 
habit of using his own railway-carriages on all 
the European lines. These carriages were three 
in number and were built, a few years ago, in the 
workshops of the International Sleeping Car 
Company. They are marked by sober elegance 
and refined comfort : there are no gildings or 
carvings or showy upholstery, as in most of the 
royal railway-carriages which I have known; on 
the other hand, there are plenty of soft easy- 
chairs, thick carpets and spacious cupboards. 
The King's smoking-carriage, fitted in Spanish 
leather, is a model of simple good taste. King 
Edward, when not travelling officially or with the 
Queen, generally used only one of these berlines, 
which was placed in the front of the special 
train. 



6 

I used, of course, to go to Calais to meet him. 
As soon as he caught sight of me, he never failed 
to say : 
216 



KING EDWARD VII 

" Still young and flourishing as ever, M. 
Paoli ? " 

The King was full of indulgence for my grey 
hairs. 

For all those whom he was accustomed to see 
on landing from the boat he had a pleasant word, 
a smile, a shake of the hand. He felt himself at 
home; and this sense obviously afforded him 
the liveliest satisfaction. During the run in the 
train from Calais to Paris, he nearly always sent 
for me to his carriage and questioned me about a 
number of minute facts connected with Paris life, 
which proved how well-informed he was of all 
that went on in the capital. He even knew the 
" takings " of certain plays which were reputed 
successes or " frosts." 

The moment he arrived at the Hotel Bristol, 
where he occupied the same suite of rooms on 
each of his trips, he sent for the proprietor 
and asked him the names of the visitors staying 
at the hotel, so that he might see if there were 
any among them whom he knew. He also had 
the leading Paris newspapers brought to him 
and at once ran his eye down the " Dramatic 
Notes " column before settling on the theatre 
which he proposed to visit that same evening. 
He then informed the hotel, which promptly 
telephoned for two boxes, on the pit tier, nearest 
the stage, to be thrown into one and reserved for 
the King's use. The hotel also generally sent 
down an armchair for His Majesty to sit in; for 
the King looked upon the chairs in our theatres 

217 



MY ROYAL CLIENTS 

as uncomfortable and was one of those who very 
rightly think that, to enjoy a performance 
properly, it is essential that one should be 
comfortably seated. 

Edward VII. did not care much for tragedies 
or plays written in verse. He preferred musical 
comedy and, above all, modern society-pieces 
containing plenty of subtle and caustic psy- 
chology. One of his favourite playhouses was 
the Theatre des Varices, where, as Prince of 
Wales, he had so often applauded Mme. Jeanne 
Granier in Offenbach's operas. The last time 
that he went there was in 1909, to attend a 
performance of Le Roi, that amusing satire by 
MM. Emmanuel Arene, Robert de Flers and 
Gaston de Caillavet. There was even a brief 
reference to himself in the play ; and his photo- 
graph figured prominently on a table. Accord- 
ingly, when the King announced his visit, the 
manager and the authors were thrown into a 
great state of excitement. Would the King not 
be annoyed at seeing himself introduced on the 
stage, although the allusion made to him was 
an entirely complimentary one ? It was pru- 
dently resolved to replace his photograph with 
that of another monarch and his name with that 
of an imaginary sovereign. But the King, on 
hearing of this little subterfuge, resisted it 
forcibly. They were obliged to yield to his 
wishes; and, when the famous scene came on, 
he was the first to laugh at it, while the spectators 
applauded this thoroughly Parisian sense of 
218 




KING EDWARD VII. AT THE ELYSEE. 




KING EDWARD VII. WALKING IN PARIS. 



U } as e 218. 



KING EDWARD VII 

humour displayed by the most Parisian of our 
visitors. 

Edward VII. always retained a small circle of 
friends whom he saw regularly during his visits 
to Paris. Those whom he gathered round his 
table on these occasions included the Marquis du 
Lau, the Marquis and Marquise de Breteuil, 
the Marquis and Marquise de Ganay, Mr. and 
Mrs. Standish, General the Marquis de Gallifet, 
M. fidouard Detaille, the great painter, whose 
studio he never failed to visit, and others. For 
General Gallifet, in particular, he cherished a 
most indulgent fellow-feeling. I say indulgent, 
because he allowed the general that liberty of 
language and frankness of opinion which con- 
stituted one of the most picturesque features 
in the personality of that gallant knight-errant, 
who was a living and most attractive personifica- 
tion of the heroic times and glorious idylls of 
old. The King loved his sparkling wit and his 
chivalrous character. I remember that, when 
he came to Paris a few months after General 
de Gallifet's death, he said to me, sadly : 

" You see, Paoli, Gallifet's disappearance means 
a great deal to me. It leaves a blank. I have 
lost a friend whom I shall never replace." 

And yet there were lively discussions between 
them, in 1905, in connection with Morocco. The 
general considered that our policy in Morocco 
was dangerous from the moment that our^minds 
were not frankly made up to go to war with 
Germany. It is not my business to express an 

219 



MY ROYAL CLIENTS 

estimate of this opinion : I am content simply to 
record it. The King, I may say, never men- 
tioned his views on the Morocco question in my 
presence ; but his acts, in their silent and methodi- 
cal development, were infinitely plainer and 
more eloquent than any number of words. His 
official journey to France, at the beginning of 
our difficulties with Germany, and his cruise in 
Moorish latitudes and along the Algerian coast, 
immediately after the German Emperor's visit 
to Tangiers, were deliberate demonstrations the 
significance of which was at once grasped by 
public opinion in France and roused the gratitude 
of the whole nation. 

For the rest, I have often remarked that the 
King was thoroughly acquainted with the French 
character and sometimes knew even better than 
our own statesmen how to appreciate the real 
importance of things that happened in our 
country. I remember that, in a certain year — 
it was in 1907, I believe — Edward VII., who had 
just finished his annual cruise in the Mediter- 
ranean, announced his arrival in Paris on the 
1st of May. Now the socialist unions were 
preparing great demonstrations in the streets 
for that very day. The police authorities feared 
that there might be disturbances in the capital. 
The government thereupon informed the King 
that it would perhaps be advisable for him to 
delay his coming by twenty-four hours ; but the 
King would not hear of it. 

When I went to meet him at the frontier- 
220 



KING EDWARD VII 

station of Pontarlier, with instructions to make 
a last effort to induce him to " avoid " Paris, 
he gave me a quizzical glance and said : 

" So it's true, Paoli ? You don't want me in 
Paris ? " 

" The fact is, Sir," I replied, " that we are 
afraid lest Your Majesty should be troubled by 
manifestations." 

" In that case, you can be quite easy. There 
will be nothing of the sort. Threatened manifes- 
tations never take place : at the most, the people 
will go and picnic in the Bois de Boulogne, with 
their wives and families. You see, Paoli, I know 
your fellow-countrymen better than you do. 
This is not the time for revolutions and bloodshed. 
People shout, threaten, sing songs and go home 
to bed. I shall, therefore, arrive quietly in 
Paris and no one will pay the smallest attention 
to me, unless it be the journalists." 

He was right and we were wrong. While the 
anarchists and socialists refrained from disturbing 
his tranquillity, the reporters, on the other hand, 
clung to his footsteps with the most provoking 
determination. 

This habit of the newspaper men was pushed 
to such a pitch, at the time of his first private 
visit to Paris after his accession, that he lost his 
patience one day and said to me : 

"As it appears that I can't have my incognito 
respected, I shall be obliged, to my great regret, 
to deprive myself of the pleasure of coming to 
Paris in future." 

221 



MY ROYAL CLIENTS 

I was very much annoyed. Do what I could, 
it was impossible to throw those gentlemen of 
the press off the scent ! I found them wherever 
the King went, trotting behind his carriage, 
waiting outside his door. In my despair, I 
thought of resorting to an expedient which, at 
first, struck me as rather ingenious. It consisted 
in discovering a double for the King, a double 
whom I would dress in the latest fashion and send 
to the right when our guest went to the left, to 
the Gymnase when the King was at the Varietes. 
As it happened, I knew a retired detective- 
inspector whose resemblance to Edward VII. 
was so striking that he was nicknamed 
" Edouard " in his family-circle and among his 
friends. Feeling convinced that he would be 
useful to me in emergencies, I sent for him to 
come to my office. My memory had not deceived 
me. He was more like the King than ever; 
the same face, the same clear eyes, the same 
neatly-trimmed beard and the same stoutness. 

But, alas, there the resemblance ceased ! 
When it became a matter of bowing, walking or 
smiling, he had nothing whatever in common 
with His Majesty. I realized that I must 
abandon the notion of which I had been so 
proud ! I then hit upon a simpler solution : 
calling together the journalists whose daily task 
it was to report on the King's movements, I 
made an appeal to their sense of courtesy and 
patriotism and besought them to be more discreet 
in the performance of their duties. Lastly, I 
222 



KING EDWARD VII 

offered myself to hand them, every evening, a 
written account of " the King's day." They 
accepted. From that moment the King was 
free . . . and everybody was contented. 



Eclectic in his tastes, interested in every 
manifestation of the thoughts of others, careful 
of his prestige, which he considered one of the 
necessary attributes of his profession as a king, 
admiring intensely every ornament of the mind, 
even as he admired every form of beauty, 
affable or distant as the occasion demanded, 
looking at men and life as they passed before his 
eyes with the same amused curiosity with which 
he would watch a race from the royal stand, this 
elegant, fashionable sovereign was profoundly 
alive, not only to his rights, but also to his duties. 
In this respect, he forgot nothing and neglected 
nothing. No court, family or historical anni- 
versary was ever known to slip his memory. He 
maintained a thoughtful and touching cult of 
those who had gone before : for instance, his first 
visit, on arriving at Biarritz, was always paid to 
the graves of the English soldiers buried in the 
little cemetery at Bayonne. 

He inherited his mother's instinct of the family : 
in the privacy of his rooms at the hotel, even if 
he were making a stay of only twenty-four hours, 
the faithfulness of his thought for his kindred 
was shown by the promptness with which he 

223 



MY ROYAL CLIENTS 

instructed his valet, Meidinger, to adorn his 
mantelpiece and his tables with photographs of 
the princes and princesses of England, amid 
which the delicate features and graceful figure of 
Queen Alexandra stood out in a large silver 
frame. Lastly, he devoted a regular hour, every 
day, to his private correspondence. 

I confess, however, that what struck me most 
in the course of the many weeks which I had 
occasion to pass in his environment was the 
immense amount of work which he succeeded in 
transacting in the midst of his brilliant life of 
sport and society; and this without showing or 
feeling the least fatigue. He took the same 
active part in affairs of State when travelling as 
when in London. He was admirably methodical 
and exacted from his equerries a daily tribute of 
labour which was considerable, but in no way 
disagreeable, thanks to the good-humour and 
genial courtesy which he showed in his relations 
with them. 

As soon as the government messenger arrived 
from London, bringing the three large canvas 
bags, each sealed with a red seal and each bearing 
a badge inscribed with the simple words " Post 
Office," after the postmaster had sorted the 
many envelopes which they contained, the King 
examined all the dispatches, studied them, anno- 
tated them, wrote to the prime minister with his 
own hand, himself treated all the important 
questions, directed how the others were to be 
dealt with and divided the work between his 
224 



KING EDWARD VII 

equerries. These two gentlemen had separate 
files for each government department, which 
were kept with the greatest fastidiousness; and 
it was marvellous to see the speed and accuracy 
with which they were able to obtain information 
on any subject likely to interest the King. There 
was never any confusion, never any mistake. 
However oppressive their task might be at times, 
they accomplished it with the same smiling, 
silent imperturbability as though they were 
sitting down to a rubber of bridge. 

Naturally it was at Biarritz that I saw most of 
the King and those about him. His Majesty, as 
everybody knows, had given up his former habit 
of spending a part of the winter on the Riviera : 

" I no longer go to Cannes and Nice," he said 
to me, one day, " because you meet too many 
princes there. I should be obliged to spend all 
my time in paying and receiving visits, whereas 
I come to the Continent to rest." 

As a matter of fact, I have noticed that kings 
and princes prefer to " avoid " one another when 
they are abroad, as witness the following incident, 
of which I was a bewildered and amused specta- 
tor. It was in the spring of 1908. The King of 
England had just arrived in Paris and had taken 
a box for the same evening at the Theatre des 
Capucines. I went with His Majesty. Leaving 
the box to take a glance at the tiny house, I was 
surprised to see the King of the Belgians seated 
in the stalls. 

I went back and told King Edward. 

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" I am delighted to hear it," he replied. 

And, from that moment, he carefully refrained 
from looking in the direction where his brother 
sovereign was sitting. 

When the King of England had left the theatre, 
I waited for the King of the Belgians at the 
entrance. After paying him my respects : 

" We had a houseful of kings to-night, Sir," I 
said. " Do you know that the King of England 
was at the play, too ? " 

" You don't mean to say so ! " he said, with an 
air of the greatest surprise. " I am sorry not 
to have seen him : I should have been pleased 
to go and shake hands with him." 
After King Leopold had gone : 

" He knew all about it ! " said M. Michel 
Mortier, the manager of the theatre, in my ear, 
" I told him myself ! " 

And yet there was no " coolness " of any kind 
between the two kings, a fact of which I was 
able to convince myself when they met at the 
Salon the next morning and chatted pleasantly 
for a quarter of an hour. 



At Biarritz, strictly mapped-out though his 

days were, what King Edward called " rest " 

nevertheless admitted of a singularly active life. 

Rising regularly at seven o'clock in the morning, 

he began by taking a warm bath and drinking a 

glass of milk, after which he proceeded to dress. 
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KING EDWARD VII 

This he always did by himself, having first named 
the different suits of clothes which he proposed 
to wear during the day. 

At ten o'clock, breakfast was served, consisting 
of boiled eggs, grilled bacon and fried fish, with 
a marked preference for smelts and small trout, 
washed down with a large cup of coffee and milk. 
He next sat down at his writing-table, which he 
did not leave until a quarter-past twelve for his 
daily walk, which lasted until lunch-time, one 
o'clock. Lunch invariably included plovers' eggs, 
hard-boiled, with a touch of paprika pepper, 
which were followed by trout, salmon or grilled 
soles, a meat dish and stewed fruit. Plovers' 
eggs, asparagus and strawberries were his pet 
fare; on the other hand, he hated butcher's 
meat and could endure nothing heavier than 
chicken, except an occasional slice of lamb. 

The evening meal, which was fixed at a quarter 
past eight, was generally pretty copious; and 
the King enjoyed having people whom he 
honoured with his friendship to dinner; but 
covers were never laid for more than ten. The 
King, at his meals, drank chablis and Perrier 
water, dry champagne and occasionally claret, 
with a glass of " Napoleon " brandy at dessert. 
His favourite drink between meals was whisky 
and soda. 

I noticed also that he was a quick eater and 

did not allow lunch to last more than thirty 

minutes nor dinner to stretch over more than 

forty to forty-five. Also, he would not let any 

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servants but his own appear in the dining-room. 
The waiters of the hotel brought the dishes to the 
door of the royal suite, where the King's footman, 
Hoepfner, took them and handed them back as 
each course was finished. 

The King, lastly, was a great smoker. In his 
cigar-case, which his valet filled for him every 
morning, Henry Clays, of the brand known as 
" Tsar," lay side by side with Corona y Coronas. 
His favourite cigarettes were Royal Derbies and 
Laurens. He wore on his watch-chain a tiny 
gold match-box engraved with the royal crown. 
I ventured one day to admire it, whereupon 
he at once took it from his chain: 

" Accept it, my dear Paoli," he said, "as a 
souvenir. I should like you to have it," 

And he very graciously obliged me to fasten 
it to my own chain, where I have worn it ever 
since. 

The King also possessed a remarkable collection 
of walking-sticks, all of which were adorned 
with his monogram in biilliants : an " E " 
surmounted by a crown. There was one, in 
particular, to which he was greatly attached : it 
used to belong to Queen Victoria and was said 
to come from a branch of the oak in which King 
Charles II. took shelter when fleeing from 
Cromwell's troopers after the battle of Worcester. 
It was handed down by the descendants of the 
Stuarts and bore their monogram, until the 
Queen had this replaced by an exquisite little 
figure of a Hindoo goddess discovered, in the 
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KING EDWARD VII 

course of some excavations, on the banks of the 
Ganges. The King, of course, never used this 
precious stick, at least not when travelling. 

There was another peculiarity which I had 
occasion to observe : all the King's overcoats had 
a little white silk cross stitched on the lining, 
just beneath the collar. It appears that this 
was the compulsory badge worn by the knights 
of Malta, whose traditions were respected by the 
King in his capacity as grand master of the 
order. 



9 

During his stay at Biarritz, the King went for 
a drive every afternoon in his motor-car. The 
superintendent of the English police and I used 
to follow in a second car. He liked stopping at 
the Basque villages, visiting the churches, watch- 
ing a game of pelota; and he never went away 
without leaving a token of his generosity behind 
him for the poor. 

When they heard of his presence at Biarritz, 
numbers of needy people imagined that Heaven 
had sent them an unexpected windfall ; and a 
regular swarm of beggars came down upon the 
town. Fearing lest the sovereign should be 
importuned, I had them all sent away, with the 
exception of two old blind beggars, whose 
character was known to me and who were worthy 
of all pity. Regularly, whatever the weather, 
they posted themselves daily, at the time of 

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the King's walk, on the road that led to the 
beach. As soon as they heard Caesar barking — 
the dog could never bring himself to tolerate 
them ! — they held out their bowls and each of 
them, with the sleeve of his coat, dusted the 
placard on his chest, inscribed, in big clumsy 
letters, with the time-honoured formula, " Pity 
the poor blind." The King walked up to them, 
dropped a handsome alms in their respective 
trays and said, as he passed : 
" Till to-morrow ! " 

Now it happened that, one morning, he saw 
only one of the blind men at the usual spot. 
Startled and fearing lest some accident had 
befallen the other — for he had gradually become 
accustomed to the sight of those faithful sentries 
— he made enquiries about the absentee. No 
one had seen him. The next day, the second 
blind man was at his post again. 

" Were you ill yesterday ? " asked the King. 
" No, monsieur le Roi." 
" Then you were late ? " 

" Excuse me, monsieur le Roi, I beg your 
pardon," the old man answered, not knowing 
what to say. " You were early ! ' : 

" A thousand apologies ! " replied the King, 
laughing heartily. 

Edward VII., as I have already implied, had 
an immense sense of humour. He was once at 
Biarritz during the elections for the municipal 
council and he took a playful pleasure in stopping 
in front of the candidates' posters and reading 
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KING EDWARD VII 

them, like any ordinary elector. One day, when 
he was looking at a newly-posted placard, a 
rough sort of fellow by his side, calling his mate's 
attention to the sovereign, said : 

" I'll bet you that cove there, in the grey 
overcoat, is a royalist ! " 

King Edward heard him, turned round and 
answered, with a smile : 

" So I wear my opinions on my clothes ? " 

He also enjoyed talking to poor people and 
visiting their humble dwellings. I remember an 
incident that happened during a brief stay which 
he made at Marseilles, before embarking on his 
Mediterranean cruise. We were returning from 
Aix-en-Provence, where we had been for a motor- 
drive. It came on to rain very heavily and the 
royal cars stopped at the village of Tholouet, 
where the King rested for a few minutes in a way- 
side shanty kept by a peasant called Thome and 
his wife. Thome was out; and his wife served 
the sovereign and the members of his suite as 
though they were ordinary customers. The 
rain soon brought M. Thome home. He entered 
his inn, placidly puffing at a great long pipe : 

" What filthy weather ! " he said. " And to 
think that people go motoring in a rain like 
this ! " 

He next opened the door of the room in which 
the King was, and shouted : 

" Hullo, Gravary, what are you doing here ? 
You're looking as fine as a fresh-scraped carrot 

to-day ! " 

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He had only caught sight of the King's back 
and took him for one of his own friends, dressed 
out in his Sunday best. His Majesty's aide-de- 
camp, Captain Seymour Fortescue, recalled him 
to a sense of the reality of things by whispering 
to him to hold his tongue : 

" You're speaking to the King of England," he 
said. 

" To the King ! " The wretched Thome 
turned pale. " Mon Dieu, que m'arriba ! " he 
exclaimed, in his native patois. 

He has since religiously preserved the poor 
cane-bottomed chair in which Edward VII. sat 
and the glass from which His Majesty took a sip 
of brandy from a bottle marked with two stars. 

The fact is that the spell which Edward VII. 
cast over all those who had the honour to ap- 
proach him was so great that any one was anxious 
to preserve a lasting memorial of the favour 
received. His simple geniality and his discreet 
kindliness won the heart of the crowds as readily 
as his intellectual superiority conquered the 
deferential esteem of the cream of society. In 
the cottage homes of France people said, " That's 
a good man ; " and in the political drawing- 
rooms people thought, " That is a great king." 

I do not know if these notes will help history 
to preserve a picture of his powerful personality 
in the charm of its intimacy. This, at any rate, 
has not been my ambition. I simply wish them 
to recall to the memory of those who have come 
into contact with him the man whom they have 
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KING EDWARD VII 

known in the sovereign ; the man with the great 
heart and the great mind that stamped all his 
thoughts, all his acts, all his attitudes with a 
fascinating individuality; the friend who under- 
stood us Frenchmen better than any one who- 
soever, and who lavished upon us the most 
delicate tokens of his admiration and of his 
affectionate regard. 



238 



CHAPTER VIII 

QUEEN WILHELMINA OF THE NETHERLANDS 

1 

I had the honour of presenting myself to 
Queen Wilhelmina, on the 1st of November 
1895, at Geneva, the city where, a year earlier, 
I had gone to meet the tragic and charming 
Empress Elizabeth of Austria, and where, three 
years later, I was fated to see her lying on a bed 
in an hotel, stabbed to death. The official 
instructions with which I was furnished stated 
that I was to accompany Their Majesties the 
Queen and Queen Regent of the Netherlands 
from Geneva to Aix-les-Bains, and to ensure their 
safety during their stay on French soil. 

I have preserved a pleasant recollection of this 
presentation, which took place on the station- 
platform on a dull, wintry morning. I remember 
how, while I was introducing myself to General 
Du Monceau, the Queen's principal aide-de-camp, 
there suddenly appeared on the foot-board of the 
royal carriage a young girl with laughing eyes, 
her face agleam and pink under her flaxen 
tresses, very simply dressed in a blue tailor-made 
skirt and coat, with a big black boa round her 
neck. And I remember a fresh, almost childish 
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QUEEN WILHELMINA OF THE NETHERLANDS. 



[Page 234. 



QUEEN WILHELMINA 

voice that made the general give a brisk half -turn 
and a courtly bow : 

" General," it said., " don't forget to buy me 
some postcards ! ' 

This pink, fair-haired girl, with the clear voice, 

was Queen Wilhelmina, who at that time was the 

very personification of the title of "the little 

Queen" which Europe, with one accord, had 

bestowed upon her, a title suggestive of fragile 

grace, touching familiarity and affectionate 

deference. She was just sixteen years of age. 

It was true that, as a poet had written : 

" A pair of woman's eyes already gazed 
Above her childish smile;" 

and that her apprenticeship in the performance 
of a queen's duties had already endowed her 
mind with a precocious maturity. Nevertheless, 
her prompt astonishment, her spontaneity, her 
frank gaiety, her reckless courage showed that 
she was still a real girl, in the full sense of the 
word. She hastened, happy and trusting, to the 
encounter of life; she blossomed like the tulips of 
her own far fields ; she was of the age that gives 
imperious orders to destiny, that lives in a palace 
of glass ! I doubt whether she really understood 
—although she never made a remark to me on 
the subject— that the French government had 
thought itself obliged to appoint a solemn func- 
tionary—even though it were only M. Paoli !— 
whose one and only mission was to protect her 
against the dagger of a possible assassin. The 

sweet little Queen could not imagine herself to 

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possess an enemy; and the people who had ap- 
proached her hitherto had learnt nothing from her 
but her gentle kindness. 

As for Queen Emma, she was as simple and as 
easy of access as her daughter, although more 
reserved. She fulfilled her double task as regent 
and mother, as counsellor and educator, with 
great dignity, bringing to it the virile authority, 
the spirit of decision and the equability of char- 
acter which we so often find in women summoned 
by a too-early widowhood to assume the responsi- 
bilities of the head of a family. And nothing 
more edifying was ever seen than the close union 
that prevailed between those two illustrious 
ladies, who never left each other's side, taking all 
their meals alone, though they were accompanied 
by a numerous suite, and living in a constant 
communion of thought and in the still enjoyment 
of a mutual and most touching affection. 

Their suite, as I have said, was a numerous one. 
In fact, it consisted, in addition to Lieutenant- 
general Count Du Monceau, of two chamber- 
lains : Colonel (now Major-general) Jonkheer 
Willem van de Poll and Jonkheer Rudolph van 
Pabst van Bingerden (now Baron van Pabst van 
Bingerden) ; a business secretary : Jonkheer P. J. 
Vegelin van Claerbergen ; two ladies-in-waiting : 
" Mesdemoiselles les Baronnes " (as they were 
styled in the Dutch protocol) Elisabeth van 
Ittersum and Anna Juckema van Burmania 
Rengers ; a reader : Miss Kreusler ; five waiting- 
women; and five footmen. Compared with the 
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QUEEN WILHELMINA 

tiny courts that usually accompanied other 
sovereigns when travelling, this made a rather 
imposing display ! Nevertheless and notwith- 
standing the fact that this sixteen-year-old Queen 
appeared to me decked in all the glory of a fairy 
princess, I am bound to admit that the royal 
circle presented none of the venerable austerity 
and superannuated grace so quaintly conjured 
up in Perrault's Tales. The jonkheers 1 were 
not old lords equipped with shirt frills and snuff- 
boxes ; mesdemoiselles les baronnes were not stern 
duennas encased in stiff silk gowns : the court 
was young and gay, with that serene and healthy 
gaiety which characterizes the Dutch tempera- 
ment. 

Why was it going to Aix ? The choice of this 
stay puzzled me. Aix-les-Bains is hardly ever 
visited in November. The principal hotels are 
closed, for, in that mountainous region, winter 
sets in with full severity immediately after the 
end of autumn. 

I put the question to General Du Monceau, who 
explained to me that the doctors had recom- 
mended Queen Wilhelmina to take a three-weeks' 
cure of pure, keen air ; and that was why they had 
selected Aix, or rather the Corbieres, a spot 
situated at 2,000 feet above Aix, on the slope of 
the Grand Revard. 

It goes without saying that there was no hotel 
there; and the only villa in the neighbourhood 

1 Jonkheer is a Dutch hereditary title of nobility, ranking 
below that of baron. — Translator's Note. 

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had to be hired for the Queen's use. This was a 
large wooden chalet, standing on the edge of a 
pine-forest, close to the hamlet. The wintry 
wind whistled under the doors and howled down 
the chimneys; there was no central heating- 
apparatus and huge fires were lit in every room. 
From the windows of this rustic dwelling, the eye 
took in the amphitheatre of the mountains of 
Savoy and their deep and beautiful valleys ; and, 
above the thatched roofs ensconced among the 
trees, one saw little columns of blue smoke rise 
trembling to the sky. 

Snow began to fall on the day after our arrival. 
It soon covered the mountains all around with a 
cloak of dazzling white, spread a soft carpet over the 
meadows before the house and powdered the long 
tresses of the pines with hoar-frost. And a great 
silence ensued ; and I seemed to be living more and 
more in the midst of a fairy-tale. 

The court settled down as best it could. The 
two Queens occupied three unpretending rooms 
on the first floor ; the royal suite divided the other 
apartments among them; some of the servants 
were lodged in a neighbouring farm-house. As 
for myself, I was bound to keep in daily tele- 
graphic touch with Paris and with the prefect of 
the department; and I found it more convenient 
to sleep at Aix. I went up to the Corbieres every 
morning by the funicular railway, which had been 
reopened for the use of our royal guests, and went 
down again, every evening, by the same route. 

The two Queens, who appeared to revel in this 
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QUEEN WILHELMINA 

austere solitude, had planned out for themselves 
a regular and methodical mode of life. They 
were up by eight o'clock in the morning and 
walked to the hamlet, chatted with the peasants 
and cow-herds and, after a short stroll, returned 
to the villa, where Queen Emma, who, at that 
period, was still exercising the functions of regent, 
dispatched her affairs of State, while little Queen 
Wilhelmina employed her time in studying or 
drawing, for she was a charming and gifted 
draughtswoman. She loved nothing more than 
to jot down from life, so to speak, such rustic 
scenes as offered : peasant-lads leading their cows 
to the fields, or girls knitting or sewing on the 
threshold of their doors. The people round about 
came to know this; they also knew that Her 
Majesty was in the habit of generously rewarding 
her willing models. And so, as soon as she had 
installed herself with her sketch-book and pencils, 
by the roadside, or in her garden, cows or little 
pigs, accompanied by their owners, would spring 
up as though by magic ! 

I have said that the Queens were in the habit 
of taking their meals alone. Nevertheless, out- 
side meals, they mingled very readily with the 
members of their suite, whom they honoured with 
an affectionate familiarity. 

The afternoons — whatever the weather might 
be — were devoted to long walks, on which Queen 
Wilhelmina used to set out accompanied generally 
by one or two ladies-in-waiting and a chamber- 
lain; sometimes I would go with her myself. 

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Queen Emma, knowing her daughter's inde- 
fatigable venturesomeness, had given up accom- 
panying her on her expeditions. We often returned 
covered with snow, our faces blue with the cold, 
our boots soaked through ; but it made no differ- 
ence : the little Queen was delighted. She dusted 
her gaiters, shook her skirt and her pale golden 
hair that hung over her shoulders and said : 

" I wish that it were to-morrow and that we 
were starting out again ! " 



Queen Wilhelmina was very expansive in her 
manner and yet very thoughtful. Trained 
in the strictest principles by a watchful and 
inflexible mother, she had learnt from childhood 
to shirk neither work nor fatigue, to brave the 
inclemencies of the weather, to distinguish herself 
alike in bodily and in mental exercises, in short, 
to prepare herself in the most serious fashion for 
her duties as queen and to realize all the hopes that 
were centred on her young head. 

I often had occasion, during my stay at the 
Corbieres, to notice the thoroughness of her 
education. She already spoke four languages, 
in addition to her mother-tongue, fluently : 
French, Russian, English and German. She 
interested herself in agricultural matters and was 
not unacquainted with social questions : for 
instance, she often made me talk to her about the 
condition of the workmen in France and the 
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QUEEN WILHELMINA 

organization of our administrative systems; nay 
more, she was beginning to study both judicial 
and constitutional law. I would not, however, 
go so far as to say that this study aroused her 
enthusiasm : she preferred, I believe, to read 
historical books; she took a great interest in the 
Napoleonic idyll, and, knowing me to be a fellow- 
countryman of Bonaparte : 

'* You must feel very sorry," she said to me, one 
day, " that you came too late to see him ! " 

She also liked to talk to me about her ponies : 

" I have four," she told me, " and I drive them 
four-in-hand." 

I was often invited to share the meals of the 
miniature court and to take my seat at the table 
of the chamberlains and ladies-in-waiting, which 
was presided over, with charming courtesy and 
geniality, by my excellent friend Count Du 
Monceau, who, although a Dutch general, was of 
French origin, as his name shows. 1 

At one of these dinners, I met with a little mis- 
hap which gave a great shock both to my patriot- 
ism and to my natural gluttony. The cook of 
the villa, M. Perreard, was a native of Marseilles 
and owned an hotel at Cannes, where I had made 
his acquaintance. In his twofold capacity as a 
Marseillese and a cook, he was a great hand at 
making bouillabaisse, the national dish of the 
people of the south. Now, as he knew that I was 

1 The family of Dumonceau is of Belgian origin and 
derives from an ancestor in the parish of Saint-Gery, 
Brussels. — Translator's Note. 

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very fond of this dainty, he said to me, one day, 
with a great air of mystery : 

" M. Paoli, I have a pleasant surprise in store 
for you at lunch this morning. I have sent to 
Marseilles for fish and shell-fish so as to give you 
a bouillabaisse cooked in the way you know of. 
Not another word ! But they'll have a good time 
up there, I can tell you, those people from the 
north who have never tasted it ! " 

As soon as we had sat down, I saw with delight 
the great soup-tureen, whence escaped a delicious 
fragrance of bouillabaisse. The members of the 
royal suite cast inquisitive glances at this dish, 
unknown to them, and prepared to do honour to 
it with a good grace. Before tasting it myself, 
I watched the expression of their faces. Alas, a 
grievous disappointment awaited me ! Hardly 
had they touched their spoons with their lips, 
when they vented their disgust in different ways. 
Baroness van Ittersum made a significant grimace, 
while Jonkheer van Pabst pushed away his plate 
and Baroness Rengers suppressed a gesture of 
repugnance. 

However, out of consideration for my feelings, 
they were silent; so was I. They waited in all 
kindness for me to enjoy my treat; but one act 
of politeness deserves another : there was nothing 
for me to do, in my turn, but to forgo my share, 
all the more so as I did not feel inclined to present 
the ridiculous spectacle of a man eating, by him- 
self, a dish which all his neighbours loathe and 
detest. 
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QUEEN WILHELMINA 

The bouillabaisse, therefore, disappeared 
straightway, untouched and still steaming, 
beating, as it were, a silent retreat. But I will 
not attempt to describe the rage which M. Per- 
reard subsequently poured into my ears. 



3 

When the Queen had explored all the woods 
and ravines close at hand, she naturally wished 
to extend the radius of her excursions. She was 
a fearless walker and was not to be thwarted by 
the steepest paths, even when these were filled 
with snow in which one's feet sank up to the 
ankles. I urgently begged the young sovereign 
never to venture far afield without first informing 
me of her intentions. As a matter of fact, I 
knew how easy it was to lose one's self in the maze 
of mountains, where one misses the trace of any 
road; and I was also afraid of unpleasant meet- 
ings, for Savoy is often infested with strangers 
from beyond the Piedmontese frontier who come 
to France in search of work. 

Lastly, there was " the black man." The 
legend of this black man was current throughout 
the district, where it spread a secret terror. 
Stories were told in the hamlet of a man dressed 
in black from head to foot, who roamed at night- 
fall through the neighbouring forests. He had 
eyes of fire and was frightfully lean. 

The peasants were convinced that it was a 

ghost, for he never answered when spoken to and 
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disappeared as soon as any one drew near. I 
did not, of course, share the superstitious terrors 
of the inhabitants of the Corbieres; but I 
thought that the ghost might be some tramp or 
marauder and I did not care for the Queens to 
come across him. Imagine my alarm, therefore, 
when, one afternoon, after I had gone down to 
Aix, I was handed the following laconic telegram : 

" Queen gone walk without notice late returning." 

To jump into the funicular railway and go back 
to the Corbieres was for me the work of a few 
minutes. There I heard that Queen Wilhelmina 
had gone out with her two ladies-in-waiting, 
saying that she meant to take a little exercise, 
as she had not been out all day, and that she would 
be back in an hour. Two hours had elapsed, 
the Queen had not returned and Queen Emma 
was beginning to feel seriously alarmed. 

I at once rushed out in search of Her Majesty, 
questioning the people whom I met on my way. 
No one had seen her. I ran into the forest, where 
I knew that she was fond of going ; I called out : 
no reply. Growing more and more anxious, I was 
about to hunt in another direction, when my eyes 
fell upon traces of feet that had left their imprint 
on the snow. I examined them : the foot-prints 
were too small to belong to a man; they had 
evidently been made by women's shoes. I 
therefore followed the trail as carefully as an 
Indian hunter. Nor was I mistaken : after half- 
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QUEEN WILHELMINA 

an-hour's walk, I heard clear voices call out and 
soon I saw the little Queen arrive, happy and 
careless, followed by her two companions : 

" Well, M. Paoli, you were running after us, I 
will bet you were ! . . . Just think, we got lost 
without knowing and were looking for our way. 
It was great iun ! " 

I did not venture to admit that I was far from 
sharing this opinion, and I confined myself to 
warning the Queen that her mother was anxious 
about her. 

" Then let us hurry back as fast as we can," she 
said, her face suddenly becoming overcast. 

And I have no doubt that Her Majesty, on 
her return, received a sound scolding. 

Strangely enough, I was able to lay my hand 
upon " the black man " on the evening of the 
very same day. It was a bright night, with the 
moon shining on the snow-clad mountains, and I 
resolved to go down to Aix on foot, instead of 
using the funicular railway. I therefore took the 
path that led through the wood ; and, on reaching 
a glade at a few yards from the royal villa, I 
perceived a shadow that appeared to be hiding 
behind the trees : 

44 There's the famous black man," I thought. 

But, as the shadow had all the air of an animal 
of the human species, I also contemplated the 
possible presence of an anarchist charged to watch 
the approaches to the royal residence. I took 
out my revolver and shouted : 

44 Who goes there ? " 

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: ' I, monsieur le commissaire ! " replied a 
familiar voice, while the shadow took shape, 
emerged from the trees, stepped forward and gave 
the military salute. 

I then recognized one of my own inspectors, 
whom I had instructed to go the rounds of the 
precincts of the Queens' chalet nightly. He was 
the individual who had been taken for " the 
black man." However, he seemed none the worse 
for it. 



When the Queen had visited all the places in 
the immediate neighbourhood of the Corbieres 
and tasted sufficiently of the pleasure of looking 
upon herself as a new Little Red Riding-hood in 
her wild solitudes, or a new Sleeping Beauty 
(whose Prince Charming was not to come until 
many years later), she expressed a wish to go 
on the longer excursions which the country-side 
afforded. We therefore set out, one fine morning, 
for the Abbey of Hautecombe, situated on the 
banks of the poetic Lac du Bourget, which 
inspired Lamartine with one of his most beautiful 
meditations. 

Although standing on French territory, the old 
abbey occupied by the Cistercian monks con- 
tinues to belong to Italy, or, at least, remains 
the property of the royal house, by virtue of an 
agreement made between the two governments at 
the time of the French annexation of Savoy in 

1860. It contains forty-three tombs of princes 
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QUEEN WILHELMINA 

and princesses of the House of Savoy. All the 
ancestors of King Victor Emanuel, from Amadeus 
V. to Humbert III., lie under the charge of the 
White Fathers in this ancient monastery full of 
silence and majesty. Their mausoleums are 
carved, for the most part, by the chisels of illus- 
trious sculptors ; they stand side by side in the 
great nave of the chapel, which is in the form of 
a Latin cross, with vaults painted sky-blue and 
transepts peopled with upwards of three hundred 
statues in Carrara marble. These, crowded to- 
gether within that narrow fabric, form as it were 
a motionless and reflective crowd watching over 
the dead. 

The visitor bends over the tombs and reads 
the names inscribed upon them; and all the 
adventurous, chivalrous, heroic and gallant 
history of the House of Savoy comes to life again. 
Here lie Amadeus, surnamed the Red Count, 
and Philibert I., the Hunter; further on, we come 
to Maria Christina of Bourbon-Savoy, Joan of 
Montfort and Boniface of Savoy, the prince who 
became Archbishop of Canterbury ; * further still 
is the tomb of the young and charming Yolande 
of Montferrat, who sleeps beside her father, 
Aymon the Peaceful. Lastly, at the entrance 
of the church, in the chapel of Our Lady of the 
Angels, stands the sarcophagus of Charles Felix 

1 Boniface of Savoy was nominated to the Archbishopric 
of Canterbury, in 1241, by King Henry III. of England, who 
had married Boniface's niece Eleanor, daughter of Raymond 
Berengar Count of Provence and Beatrix of Savoy. — 
Translator 's Note. 

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King of Sardinia, who restored Hautecombe in 
1842. 

This fine historical lesson within a monastic 
sanctuary interested the two Dutch Queens 
greatly. It made Queen Wilhelmina very 
thoughtful, especially at a given moment when 
the monk who acted as her guide said, with a 
touch of pride in his voice : 

" The House of Savoy is a glorious house ! " 

After a second's pause, the little Queen replied : 

"So is the House of Orange ! " 

A few days after our excursion to Hautecombe, 
we went to visit the Cascade de Cresy, a sort of 
furious torrent in which Marshal Ney's sister, 
the Baronne de Broc, was drowned in 1818 before 
the eyes of Queen Hortense, the mother of 
Napoleon III. We also drove to the Gorges du 
Fier, in which no human being had dared to 
venture before 1869. Queen Wilhelmina, ever 
eager for emotional impressions, insisted on 
penetrating at all costs through the narrow 
passage that leads into the gorges. The Queen 
Mother lived through minutes of agony that day, 
although I did my best to persuade Her Majesty 
that her daughter was not really incurring any 
danger. But there is no convincing an anxious 
mother ! 

Stimulated by these various excursions, the 
little Queen said to me, one morning : 

" M. Paoli, I have formed a great plan. My 
mother approves. I want to go and see the 
Grande Chartreuse." 
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QUEEN WILHELMINA 

" That is easily done," I replied, " but it will 
take a whole day, for the monastery is a good 
distance from here." 

" Well, M. Paoli, arrange the excursion as you 
think best : with the snow on the ground, it will be 
magnificent ! " 

I wrote to the Father Superior to tell him of the 
Queen's wish. He answered by return that, to 
his regret, he was unable to open the doors of the 
monastery to women, even though they were 
queens, without the express authorization of the 
Pope. And indeed I remembered that the same 
objection had arisen some years earlier, when I 
wanted to take Queen Victoria to the Grande 
Chartreuse : I had to apply to Rome on that 
occasion also. 

I therefore hastened to communicate the answer 
to General Du Monceau, who at once telegraphed 
to Cardinal Rampolla, at that time Secretary of 
State to the Holy See. Cardinal Rampolla 
telegraphed the same evening that the Pope 
granted the necessary authority. 

These diplomatic preliminaries gave an ad- 
ditional zest to our expedition. For it was a 
genuine expedition. We left Aix-les-Bains at 
eight o'clock in the morning, by special train, for 
Saint-Beron, which was then the terminus of the 
railway, before entering the great mountain. 
Here, two landaus with horses and postilions 
awaited us. The two Queens and their ladies 
stepped into one of the carriages; General Du 

Monceau, the officers of the suite and I occupied 

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the other; and we started. It was eleven o'clock 
in the morning and we had a three-hours' drive 
before us. Notwithstanding the intense cold, a 
flood of sunshine fell upon the immense frozen 
and deserted mountain-mass and lit up with a 
blinding flame the long sheets of snow that lay 
stretching to the horizon, where they seemed to 
be merged in the deep blue of the sky. No sign 
of life appeared in that sea of mountains, amid 
the throng of dissimilar summits, some blunt, 
some pointed, but all girt at their base with huge 
pine-forests. Only the rhythmical tinkling of our 
harness-bells disturbed the deep silence. 

We began to feel the pangs of hunger after an 
hour's driving. I had foreseen that we should 
find no inn on the road and had taken care to have 
baskets of provisions stored in the boot of each 
carriage at Saint-Beron. 

; ' That's a capital idea," said Queen Wilhel- 
mina, " You shall lunch with us. I will lay the 
cloth ! " 

The carriages had stopped in the middle of the 
road, in the vast solitude, opposite the prodigious 
panorama of white mountains and gloomy 
valleys. The little Queen spread a large table- 
napkin over our knees. From the depths of a 
hamper, she produced a cold chicken, rolls and 
butter and solemnly announced : 

" Luncheon is served." 

Served by a queen, in a carriage, on a moun- 
tain-top : that was an incident lacking to my 
collection, as King Alfonso would have said ! 
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QUEEN WILHELMINA 

I need hardly add that this picturesque luncheon 
was extremely lively and that not a vestige of it 
remained when, at two o'clock, we approached 
the Grande Chartreuse. 

We caught sight first of the square tower, then 
of the great slate roofs, then of the countless 
steeples, until, at last, in the fold of a valley, the 
impressive block of buildings came into view, all 
grey amid its white setting and backed by the 
snow-covered forests scrambling to the summit 
of the Col de la Ruchere. Perched amidst this 
immaculate steppe, among those spurs bristling 
with contorted and threatening rocks, as though 
in some apocalyptic landscape, the cold, stern, 
proud convent froze us with a nameless terror : 
it seemed to us as though we had reached the 
mysterious regions of a Wagnerian Walhalla; 
the fairy-tale had turned into a legend, through 
which the flaxen-haired figure of the little Queen 
passed like a light and airy shadow. 

All the inhabitants of the monastery stood 
awaiting the Queens on the threshold of the gate- 
way. The monks were grouped around their 
superior; their white frocks mingled with the 
depths of the huge corridor, the endless perspective 
ot which showed through the open door. 

The father superior stepped forward to greet 
the two Queens. Tall in stature, with the grace 
of an ascetic, a pair of piercing eyes, an harmoni- 
ous voice and a cold dignity combined with an 
exquisite courtesy, he had the grand manner of 

a well-bred man of the world : 

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" Welcome to Your Majesties," he said, slowly, 
with a bow. 

The Queens, a little awe-struck, made excuses 
for their curiosity; and the inspection began. 
The monks led their royal visitors successively 
through the cloister, the refectories, the fine library, 
which at that time contained over twenty 
thousand volumes, and the rooms devoted to work 
and meditation, each of which bore the name of 
a country or province, because formerly they 
served as meeting-places for the priors of the 
charter-houses of each of those countries or 
provinces. They showed their kitchen, with its 
table formed of a block of marble nine yards 
long and its chimney of colossal proportions. 
They threw open the great chapter-house, decor- 
ated with twenty -two portraits of the generals 
of the order from its foundation and furnished 
with lofty stalls, in which the monks used to come 
and sit when, twice a year, they held their secret 
assembly. They showed their exiguous cells, 
with their tiled floors and whitewashed walls, 
each containing a truckle-bed, a praying- chair, a 
table, a crucifix, and a window opening upon the 
vast and splendid horizon of the fierce mountains 
beyond. Lastly, they showed their church, with 
its Gothic carvings surmounted by a statue of 
death, and their desolate and monotonous 
cemetery, in which only the graves of the priors 
are distinguished by a wooden cross. But they 
did not show their relics and their precious sacred 
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QUEEN WILHELMINA 

books. I expressed my astonishment at this; 
and one of the fathers replied, coldly : 

" That is because the Queens are heretics. We 
only show them to Catholics." 

Queen Wilhelmina, who had gradually recovered 
her assurance, plied the superior with questions, 
to which he replied with a perfect good grace. 
When, at last, the walk through the maze of 
passages and cloisters was finished, the Queen 
hesitated and asked : 

" And the chartreuse ? Don't you make that 

here ? " 

" Certainly, Ma'am," said the prior, " but we 
did not think that our distillery could interest 
Your Majesty." 

"Oh, but it does ! " answered the Queen, with a 
smile. " I want to see everything." 

We were then taken to the " Mill," situated at 
an hour's distance from the monastery, where 
the Carthusians, with their sleeves turned back, 
prepared the delicious liqueur the secret of which 
they have now taken with them in their exile. 
The Queens put their lips to a glass of yellow 
elixir offered to them by the superior and accepted 
a few bottles as a present. The visit had 
interested them prodigiously. 

Half-an-hour later, we had left the monastery far 
behind us in its stately solitude and were driving 
down the other slope of the mountain to Grenoble, 
where we were to find a special train to take us 
back to Aix-les-Bains. When we approached the 

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old Dauphine capital, the day had turned into a 
night of black and icy darkness; in front of us, 
in the depths of the valley, all the lamps of the 
great town displayed their thousands of twinkling 
lights; and Queen Wilhelmina kept on exclaim- 
ing : 

" How beautiful ! How delighted I am ! " 
She was not so well pleased — nor was I — when, 
at the gate of the town, we saw cyclists who 
appeared to be on the look-out for the carriages 
and who darted off as scouts before our landaus, 
as soon as they perceived us. These mysterious 
proceedings puzzled me all the more inasmuch as 
I had taken care not to inform the authorities of 
Grenoble that the Queens intended to pass through 
their city, knowing as I did, on the one hand, that 
the municipal council was composed of socialists, 
and, on the other, that Their Majesties wished to 
preserve the strictest incognito. But I had 
reckoned without the involuntary indiscretion of 
the railway-staff, who had allowed the fact to 
leak out that a special train had been ordered 
for the sovereigns ; and, as no one is more anxious 
to receive a smile from royalty than the stern, 
uncompromising adherents of Messrs. Jaures & 
Co., the first arm that was respectfully put out 
to assist Queen Wilhelmina to alight from the 
carriage was that of the socialist senator who, 
that year, was serving as mayor of Grenoble. 
He was all honey; he had prepared a speech; he 
had provided a band. Willy-nilly, we had to 
submit to an official reception. True, we were 
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amply compensated, as the train steamed out 
of the station, by hearing cries of " Long live the 
Queens ! " issuing from the throats of men who 
spent the rest of the year in shouting, " Down 
with tyrants ! " 

Such is the eternal comedy of politics and 
mankind ! 



The Queens' stay at the Corbieres was dra wing- 
to a close. We had exhausted all the walks and 
excursions; the cold was becoming daily more 
intense ; the icy wind whistled louder than ever 
under the ill-fitting doors. At the royal chalet, 
the little Queen was growing tired of sketching 
young herds with their flocks or old peasant- 
women combing wool. One morning, General Du 
Monceau said to me : 

" Their Majesties have decided to go to Italy. 
They will start for Milan the day after to-morrow." 

Two days later, I parted from them at the 
frontier ; and, as I was taking leave of them : 

" We shall meet again," said Queen Wilhelmina, 
" I am longing to see Paris." 

She did not realize her wish until two years 
later. It was in the spring of 1898 — a year made 
memorable in her life because it marked her 
political majority and the commencement of her 
real reign — that, accompanied by her mother, she 
paid her first visit to Paris on her way to Cannes 
for the wedding of Prince Christian of Denmark 

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(the present Crown-prince) and the Grand- 
duchess Mary of Mecklenburg-Strelitz. 

" Do you remember the day when we went to 
the Grande Chartreuse ? " were her first words on 
seeing me. 

She still had her bright, childish glance, but she 
now wore her pretty hair done up high, as befitted 
her age, and her figure had filled out in a way 
that seemed to accentuate her radiant air of 
youth. 

Anecdotes were told of her playfulness that 
contrasted strangely with her sedate appearance. 
Chief among them was the well-known story 
according to which she loved to tease her English 
governess, Miss Saxton Winter : all Holland had 
heard how, one day, when drawing a map of 
Europe, she amused herself by enlarging the 
frontiers of the Netherlands out of all proportion 
and considerably reducing the limits of Great 
Britain. Another story was that, having regret- 
fully failed to induce the postal authorities to alter 
her portrait on the Dutch stamps, which still 
represented her as a little girl, with her hair 
down, she never omitted with her own pen to 
correct the postage-stamps which she used for 
her private correspondence ! 

These childish ways did not prevent her from 
manifesting a keen interest in poetry and art. 
Her favourite reading was represented by Sir 
Walter Scott and Alexandre Dumas the Elder; 
but she also read books on history and painting 
with the greatest pleasure. She had acquired a 
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QUEEN WILHELMINA 

remarkable erudition on these subjects in the 
course of her studies, as I had occasion to learn 
during our visits to the museums, especially the 
Louvre. She was as familiar with the Italian and 
French schools of painting as with the Dutch and 
Flemish, although she maintained a preference 
for Rembrandt : 

" I should like him to have a statue in every 
town in Holland ! " she said. 

I need hardly say that the artistic treasures of 
Paris did not absorb her attention to the extent 
of causing her to disregard the attractions and 
temptations which our capital offers to the 
curiosity of a young and elegant woman who 
does not scorn the fascination of dress. Queen 
Wilhelmina used to go into ecstasies over the 
beauty and luxury of our shops; and Queen 
Emma had the greatest difficulty in dragging her 
from the windows of the tradesmen in the Rue 
Royale and the Rue de la Paix. It nearly 
always ended with a visit to the shop and the 
making of numerous purchases. 

The little Queen won the affection of all with 
whom she came into contact by her simplicity, 
her frankness and the charming innocence with 
which she indulged in the sheer delight of living. 
Although possessed of an easy and ready power 
of admiration, she remained Dutch at heart and 
professed a proud and exclusive patriotism. 

" I can understand," said President Felix 

Faure to me, on the day after the visit which he 

paid to the two Queens, " that the Dutch nation 

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shows an exemplary loyalty to Queen Wilhelmina : 
it recognizes itself in her." 

Indeed, nowhere is the sovereign more securely 
installed than in Holland, nor does the work of 
government proceed anywhere more smoothly. 
In Holland, constitutional rule performs its 
functions automatically, while the budget 
balances regularly, year by year, thanks to the 
profitable colonies and trade. Happy country ! 
What other State can say as much to-day ? 

A week after their arrival in Paris, the two 
Queens left for Cannes. I had been called south 
by my service in waiting on Queen Victoria, who 
had just gone to Cannes herself, and I was obliged 
to leave a few days before Their Majesties. But 
I met them again at the Danish wedding; and 
I saw Queen Wilhelmina for the last time shortly 
before her departure for Holland. It was in the 
late afternoon, at the moment when the sun 
was on the point of disappearing behind the 
palm-trees in the garden of the hotel where the 
Queen of England had taken up her residence. 
Queen Wilhelmina had come to say good-bye : 
she was standing in an attitude of timid deference 
before the old sovereign seated in her bath-chair. 
Both Queens were smiling and talking merrily. 
Then Wilhelmina stooped, kissed Queen Victoria 
on the forehead and tripped away lightly in the 
golden rays of the setting sun. 

She has not returned to France since then. 



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CHAPTER IX 

THE LATE KING OF THE BELGIANS 
1 

Of all the sovereigns with whom I have been 
connected in the course of my career, Leopold II. 
is perhaps the one whom I knew best, with the 
circumstances of whose private life I was most 
intimately acquainted, and whose thoughts and 
soul I was, nevertheless, least able to fathom, 
for the simple reason that his thoughts were 
impenetrable and his soul ever closed. Was 
this due to excessive egotism or supreme in- 
difference ? To both, perhaps. He was as 
baffling as a puzzle, carried banter occasionally 
to the verge of insolence and cynicism to that 
of cruelty; and, if, at times, he yielded to fits 
of noisy gaiety, if, from behind the rough 
exterior, there sometimes shot an impulse of 
unexpected kindness, these were but passing 
gleams. He promptly recovered his wonderful 
self-control; and those about him were too 
greatly fascinated by his intelligence to seek to 
understand his habit of mind or heart. And yet, 
though fascinating, he was as uncommunicative 
as it is possible to be; he possessed none of those 
external attractions of the intellect which capti- 
s ~ 259 



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vate and charm; but, whenever he deigned to 
grant you the honour of an interview, however 
brief, you at once discovered in him a prodigious 
brain, a luminous perspicacity and critical powers 
of amazing subtlety and keenness. 

No sovereign used — and abused— all the springs 
of his physical and moral activity to a greater 
extent than did Leopold II. to his dying day. 
An everlasting traveller, passing without cessa- 
tion from a motor-car into a train, from a train 
on to a boat, caring little for the delights of sleep, 
he worked continuously, whether in the presence 
of some fine view, or at sea, or at meals, or in the 
train, or in his hotel, or on a walk ; the place and 
the hour mattered to him but little. 

" Monsieur l'ofncier, take down ! " he would 
say to his equerry, at the most unexpected 
moment. 

And " monsieur l'ofncier " — his only form of 
address for the officers of his suite — drew out a 
note-book, seized a pencil and took down, "by 
way of memorandum," to the slow, precise and 
certain dictation of the King, the wording of a 
letter, a report or a scheme relating to the 
multifarious operations in which Leopold II. 
was interested. Contrary to the majority of 
monarchs, who take with them on their holidays 
a regular arsenal of papers and a very library of 
records, Leopold carried in the way of reference 
books nothing but a little English-French 
dictionary, which he slipped into the pocket of 
his overcoat and consulted for the purpose of the 
260 




THE LATE KING OF THK BELGIANS. 



{Page 260. 



THE LATE KING OF THE BELGIANS 

voluminous correspondence which he conducted 
in connection with Congo affairs : 

" It is no use my knowing English thoroughly," 
he confessed to me, one day. " Those British 
officials sometimes employ phrases of which I 
do not always grasp the full meaning and scope. 
I must fish out my lexicon ! " 

On the other hand, he needed no assistance 
to work out his complicated and gigantic 
financial combinations. He possessed, if I may 
say so, the bump of figures. For hours at a time, 
he would indulge in intricate calculations; and 
his accounts never showed a hesitation or an 
erasure. In the same way, when abroad, he 
treated affairs of State with a like lucidity. If 
he thought it useful to consult a specialist in 
certain matters, he would send for him to come 
to where he was, question him and send him away, 
often after teaching the expert a good many 
things about his own profession which he did not 
know before. And the King thereupon made up 
his mind in the full exercise of his independent 
and sovereign will : 

" My ministers," he would say, with that 
jeering air of his, " are often idiots. But they 
can afford the luxury : they have only to do as 
I tell them." 

Leopold II. did not always, however, take this 
view of the constitutional monarchy. For in- 
stance, a few months before his death, one of his 
ministers was reading a report to him in the 
presence of the heir presumptive — now King 

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Albert — when the wind, blowing through the 
open window of the royal writing-room, sent a 
bundle of papers, on the King's desk, flying 
over the carpet. The minister was rushing 
forward to pick them up, when the King caught 
him by the sleeve and, turning to his nephew, 
said : 

" Pick them up yourself." 

And, when the minister protested : 

" Leave him alone," whispered Leopold. " A 
future constitutional sovereign must learn to 
stoop ! " 

An autocrat in his actions, he affected to be a 
democrat in his principles. 

It matters little whether his methods were 
reprehensible or not : history will say that 
Leopold II. was to Belgium the artisan of an 
unequalled prosperity, although it is true that 
he was nearly always absent from his country. 
The fact is that he loved France at least as well 
as Belgium. He loved the Riviera and, above 
all, he loved the capital. He had the greatest 
difficulty in dragging his white beard away from 
the Paris radius; and, when, by chance, it was 
eclipsed for a week or two, it continued to figure 
in the magazines, in the illustrated and comic 
papers and on the posters that advertised cheap 
tailors, tonic pills or recuperative nostrums. 

Leopold II., therefore, was a Parisian person- 
ality in the full glory of the word. True, he 
never achieved the air of elegance that dis- 
tinguished Edward VII. You would have looked 
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THE LATE KING OF THE BELGIANS 

for him in vain on the balcony of the club, on the 
asphalt of the boulevards, in a stage-box at the 
theatre, in the paddock at Longchamp. But, 
should you happen to meet in the Tuileries 
Gardens, in the old streets of the Latin Quarter, 
or, more likely still, along the quays a man 
wrapped in a long dark ulster, wearing a pair of 
goloshes over his enormous boots and a black 
bowler on his head, carrying in his hand an 
umbrella that had seen better days and under his 
arm a bundle of yellow-backed books or a knick- 
knack of some sort packed up anyhow in a news- 
paper ; should you catch sight of a lean and lanky 
Ghent burgess rooted in silent contemplation of 
the front of the Louvre, or the porch of Saint- 
Germain-l'Auxerrois, or the gates of the ficole des 
Beaux- Arts ; should you perceive him haggling for 
a musty old tome at the corner of the Pont des 
Saints-Peres and counting the money twice over 
before paying, then you could safely go home 
and say : 

" I have seen the King of the Belgians." 
I often accompanied him on these strolls, in the 
course of which the artist and book-lover that 
lay hidden in him found many an occasion for 
secret and silent joys; for the King, who hated 
music, who bored himself at the theatre, and who 
despised every manifestation of the art of to-day, 
had a real passion for old pictures, fine architec- 
ture, rare curiosities and . . . flowers. 

" Monsieur le commissaire," he would often 
say, with his fondness for official titles, in his 

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strong Belgian accent, " we will go for an excur- 
sion to-day with monsieur l'ofncier." 

And the " excursion " nearly always ended by 
taking us to some old curiosity-shop, or to the 
Mus6e Carnavalet, or to the flower-market on 
the Quai de la Tournelle. 

In the later years of his life, however, he had to 
give up his walks in town : he was attacked by 
sciatica, which stiffened his left leg and prevented 
him from walking except with the aid of two 
sticks or leaning on his secretary's arm. 

So familiar a figure did he become that he was 
ridiculed in the music-halls and in the scandal- 
mongering press; caricatures of him were dis- 
played in all the newsvendors' windows. This 
stupid and sometimes spiteful interest in his 
movements was a positive affliction to him. We 
did our best, of course, to prevent his seeing the 
satirical drawings in which he figured in attitudes 
unbecoming to the dignity of a king ; but we did 
not always succeed. Fortunately, his sense of 
humour exceeded any annoyance which he may 
have felt. Remembering that he possessed an 
astonishing double in the person of an old Parisian 
called M. Mabille, he never failed to exclaim 
when, by some unlucky chance, his eyes fell upon 
a caricature of his royal features : 

" There, they're teasing that unfortunate M. 

Mabille again ! And how like me he is ! Lord, 

how like me he is ! " 

His habit of icy chaff made one feel perpetually 
264" 



THE LATE KING OF THE BELGIANS 

ill at ease when he happened to be in a conver- 
sational vein. One never knew if he was serious 
or joking. This tall, rough-hewn old man had 
a trick of stinging repartee under an outward 
appearance of innocent good-nature, and, better 
than any one that I have ever met, understood 
the delicate art of teaching a lesson to those who 
ventured upon an unseemly familiarity in his 
presence. 

One evening, at a reception which he was giving 
to the authorities in his chalet at Ostend, the 
venerable rector of the parish came up to him 
with an air of concern and, drawing him respect- 
fully aside, said : 

" Sir, I feel profoundly grieved. There is a 
rumour, I am sorry to say, that Your Majesty's 
private life is not marked by the austerity suited 
to the lofty and difficult task which the Lord 
has laid upon the monarchs of this earth. Re- 
member, Sir, that it behoves kings to set an 
example to their subjects." 

And the worthy rector, taking courage from 
the fact that he had known Leopold II. for thirty 
years, preached him a long sermon. The peni- 
tent, adopting an air of contrition, listened to the 
homily without moving a muscle. When, at 
last, the priest had exhausted his eloquence : 

" What a funny thing, monsieur le cure ! ' : 

murmured the King, fixing him with that cold 

glance of his from under his wrinkled eyelids. 

" Do you know, people have told me exactly the 

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same thing about you ! . . . Only I refused to 
believe it, you know ! " 1 

That was a delicious sally, too, in which he 
indulged at the expense of a certain Brazilian 
minister who was paying his first visit to court, 
and who appeared to be under the impression 
that the King was hard of hearing. At any rate, 
he made the most extraordinary efforts to speak 
loud and to pronounce his words distinctly. 
The King maintained an impassive countenance, 
but ended by interrupting him : 

" Excuse me, monsieur le ministre," he said, 
with an exquisite smile. " I'm not deaf, you 
know : it's my brother ! " 

Picture the diplomatist's face ! 

Lastly, let me recall his caustic reply to one of 
our most uncompromising radical deputies who 
was being received in audience, and who, falling 
under the spell of King Leopold's obvious 
intelligence, said to him, point-blank : 

" Sir, I am a republican. I do not hold with 
monarchies and kings. Nevertheless, I recognize 
your great superiority and I confess that you 
would make an admirable president of a 
republic ! " 

" Really ? " replied the King, with his most 
ingenuous air. " Really ? Do you know, I 
think I shall pay a compliment in your style to 
my physician, Dr. Thirier, who is coming to see 

1 The late King of the Belgians shared the national 
peculiarity of interlarding his French with a succession of 
savez-vous. — Translator's Note. 
266 



THE LATE KING OF THE BELGIANS 

me presently. I shall say, c Thirier, you are 
a great doctor and I think you would make an 
excellent veterinary surgeon ! ' " 

The poor opinion which he entertained of the 
republic, as this story would appear to show, 
did not prevent him from treating it with the 
greatest respect. Of all the foreign sovereigns, 
Leopold II. was certainly the one who kept up 
the most cordial relations with our successive 
presidents. At each of his visits to Paris, he 
never failed to go to the filysee. He called as a 
neighbour, as a friend, without even announcing 
his visit beforehand. When M. Fallieres was 
elected president at the Versailles congress, the 
first visit which he received, on his return to the 
Senate, where he was then living, was that of 
Leopold II. 

Nevertheless, whatever personal sympathy he 
may have felt for France, the King of the Belgians 
always turned a deaf ear to sentimental con- 
siderations ; and there is no reason why we should 
ascribe to such considerations the very marked 
courtesy which he showed to the official republi- 
can world. In my opinion, this attitude is due 
to several causes. In the first place, he reckoned 
that France was a useful factor in the develop- 
ment of Belgian prosperity, and that it was wise 
to increase the economic links that united the 
two countries. On the other hand, what would 
have become of his colonial enterprise in the 
Congo, if France had taken sides with England, 

which was displaying a violent hostility against 

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MY ROYAL CLIENTS 

him ? Lastly, this paradoxical monarch, who 
always governed through Catholic ministries at 
home, because that was the wish expressed by the 
majority of votes, was, I firmly believe, a free- 
thinker at heart and was pleased to find that our 
rulers entertained views which corresponded with 
his own secret tendencies. 

The fact is that Leopold II. looked at every- 
thing from two points of view : that of practical 
reality and that of his own selfishness. The 
King had in his veins the blood of the Coburgs 
mixed with that of the d' Orleans, two highly 
intelligent families, but utterly devoid of senti- 
ment or sensibility; and he treated life as an 
equation which it was his business to solve by 
any methods, no matter which, so long as the 
result corresponded with that which he had 
assigned to it beforehand. 

He had an extraordinarily observant mind, 
was marvellously familiar with the character 
of his people, its weaknesses and its vanities, and 
played upon these with the firm, yet delicate 
touch of a pianist who feels himself to be a 
perfect master of his instrument and of its 
effects. His cleverness as a constitutional sove- 
reign consisted in appearing to follow the move- 
ments of public opinion, whereas, in reality, he 
directed and sometimes even provoked them. 

Thus, in 1884, when the violent reaction of 
the Catholics against the anti-clerical policy of 
M. Frere-Orban culminated in the return of the 
conservatives to power, one might have thought 
268 



THE LATE KING OF THE BELGIANS 

that the crown, which until then had supported 
the liberal policy and favoured the secularization 
of the schools, would find itself in a curiously 
difficult position, and that the check administered 
to M. Frere-Orban would amount to a check 
administered to the King himself. Not at all. 
Leopold II., sheltering himself behind his duties 
as a constitutional sovereign, became, from one 
day to the next, as firm a supporter of the 
Catholic party as he had been, till then, of the 
liberals. Nay more, I have learnt since that he 
had a hand in the change of attitude on the part 
of parliament and the nation. As I have hinted 
above, his personal sympathies lay on the side 
of the liberal party; but, with the perspicacity 
that was all his own, he was not slow in per- 
ceiving the spectre of budding socialism which 
was beginning to loom behind Voltairean liberal- 
ism. He suspected its dangers; and he did not 
hesitate to give a sudden turn to the right to the 
ship of State of which he looked upon himself 
as the responsible pilot. And this position he 
maintained until the end of his days, without, for 
a moment, laying aside any of his personal 
preferences. 



My first meeting with Leopold II. dates back 
to 1896. The King had gone to the Riviera, 
accompanied by his charming daughter, Princess 
Clementine, now Princess Napoleon, who, from 
that time onward, filled in relation to her father 

269 



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the part of the Antigone of a tempestuous old 
age. I shall never forget my surprise when the 
King, who had made the long rail way- journey 
from Brussels to Nice without a stop, said to his 
chamberlain, Baron Snoy, as they left the 
station : 

44 Send away the carriage, monsieur le cham- 
bellan. We'll go to the hotel on foot. I want 
to stretch my legs a bit ! " 

We walked down the Avenue Thiers, followed 
by an inconvenient little crowd of inquisitive 
people. Just as we were about to cross a street, 
a landau drove up and obliged us to step back 
to the pavement. As it passed us, the King 
solemnly took off his hat : he had recognized 
Queen Victoria sitting in the carriage and 
apparently astounded at this unexpected meeting. 
When we reached the Place Massena, again 
the King's hat flew off : this time it was the 
Dowager Empress of Russia entering a shop. 

44 The place seems crammed with sovereigns," 
he said, with his mocking air. 44 Whom am I 
going to meet next, I wonder ? " 

I saw little of him during this first short stay 
which he made at Nice, for I was at that time 
attached to the person of the Queen of England 
and had to transfer the duty of protecting King 
Leopold to one of my colleagues. I used to 
meet him occasionally — always on foot — on the 
Cimiez road ; I would also see him, in the after- 
noon, taking tea at Rumpelmayer's with his 
two daughters, the Princesses Clementine and 
270 



THE LATE KING OF THE BELGIANS 

Louise, and his son-in-law, Prince Philip of Saxe- 
Coburg-Gotha. 

These family-meetings around a five o'clock tea- 
table marked the last auspicious days of peace, 
which was more apparent than real, among those 
illustrious personages. When Leopold II. returned 
to the Riviera, two years later, he had quarrelled, 
in the meanwhile, with his daughter Louise, who 
herself had quarrelled with her husband ; he had 
ceased to see his daughter Stephanie, who had 
married Count Lonyay; and he met his wife, 
Queen Marie-Henriette, as seldom as he possibly 
could. Princess Clementine was the only one who 
still found favour with this masterful old man, 
who was so hard upon others and so indulgent to 
himself; and she continued, with admirable de- 
votion and self-abnegation, to surround him with 
solicitous care and to accompany him wherever 
he went. 

I never met a more smiling resignation than 
that of this princess, who took a noble pride 
in the performance of her duty. Nothing was 
able to discourage her in the fulfilment of her 
filial mission : not the rebuffs and caprices which 
she encountered on her father's side, nor the 
frequently delicate and sometimes humiliating 
positions which he forced upon her, nor even 
the persistency with which, until his dying day, 
he thwarted the secret inclinations of her 
heart. 

It has been said that at one time he thought 
of giving her the Prince of Naples — now King of 

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Italy — for a husband, and that he abandoned the 
idea in consequence of the stubborn opposition 
which the plan encountered on the part of exalted 
political personages. I do not know if he ever 
entertained this plan; on the other hand, I feel 
pretty sure that, some years ago, he would have 
liked the Count of Turin for a son-in-law, and 
that negotiations were opened to this effect 
with the Italian court. But the most invincible 
of arguments — the only one that had not been 
taken into account — was at once opposed to this 
project : the princess's affections were engaged 
elsewhere. She loved Prince Victor Napoleon 
and had resolved that she would never marry 
another man. Of course I was not present at 
the scene which the plain expression of this wish 
provoked between father and daughter; but I 
understand that it was of a violent character. 
From that day, the prince's name was never 
mentioned between them. The princess con- 
tinued, as in the past, to fill the part of an 
attentive and devoted daughter; she continued 
scrupulously to perform her duties as " the 
little Queen," as the Belgians called her after 
1904, the year of her mother's death, when she 
began to take Marie-Henriette's place at public 
functions; she continued to succour the poor 
and nurse the sick with greater solicitude than 
ever; and she was seen, as before, driving her 
pony-chaise in the Bois de la Cambre. Only, in 
the privacy of her boudoir, the moment she had 
a little time to herself, she would immerse her- 
272 





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PRINCESS VICTOR NAPOLEON (PRINCESS CLEMENTINE OF BELGIUM). 



THE LATE KING OF THE BELGIANS 

self in the study of historical memoirs of the 
Napoleonic period. 

To tell the truth, I believe that, if Prince Victor 
had not possessed the grave fault, in Leopold's 
eyes, of being a pretender to the French throne, 
the King would have ended by giving to the 
daughter whom he adored the consent for which 
she vainly entreated during six long years. But 
the King was an exceedingly selfish man ; he was 
eager, for the reasons explained above, to preserve 
good relations with the French Republic; and 
he refused at any price to admit the heir of the 
Bonapartes into his family. The result was that 
he ended by conceiving against the prince the 
violent antipathy which he felt for any person 
who stood in his way and interfered with 
his calculations. I remember realizing this one 
morning at the station at Bale, where I had gone 
to meet him. The King was waiting on the 
platform for the Brussels train, when I suddenly 
caught sight of Prince Victor leaving the refresh- 
ment-room. I thought it my duty to tell the 
King. 

" Oh, indeed ! " he said. " Let's go and look 
at the engines." 

And he strode away. 

Can it have been because he was sure of 

meeting neither Prince Victor nor the members of 

his own family on the Riviera that he resolved, at 

the end of his life, to fix one of his chief residences 

in the south of France ? I will not go so far as 

that. I am more inclined to believe that the 
t 273 



MY ROYAL CLIENTS 

old King, who was a passionate lover of sunshine, 
flowers and freedom, found in that charming and 
easy-going country the environment most in 
harmony with his moods and tastes. 

As early as 1898, he resolved to lay out for 
himself a paradise in the wonderful property, 
known as Passable, which he had purchased near 
Nice, with its gardens sloping down to the Gulf 
of Villefranche. He devoted all his horticultural 
and architectural knowledge, all his sense of the 
beautiful and picturesque, to its embellishment. 
Tiberius achieved no greater success at Capri. 
Year after year, he enlarged it, for he had a 
mania for building and pulling down. He also 
had the soul of a speculator. None knew 
better than he how to bargain for a piece of 
land; he would bully, threaten and intimidate 
the other side until he invariably won the day. 
Thereupon he used to indulge in childish 
delight : 

"It's all right," he would say, with a great fat 
chuckle. " I have done a capital stroke of 
business ! " 

And I am bound to admit that he spared neither 
time nor energy when he scented what he called 
" a capital stroke of business." I can still see him, 
one afternoon, leaving M. Waldeck-Rousseau's 
villa at the Cap d'Antibes, near Cannes, where 
he had gone to pay the prime minister a visit, and 
perceiving, on the road leading to the station, a 
magnificent walled-in park that looked as if it 
were abandoned. 
274 



THE LATE KING OF THE BELGIANS 

" Who owns that property ? " he asked 
suddenly. 

" An Englishman, Sir, who never comes near 
it." 

We have time to look over it," said the 
King, " before the train leaves for Nice. Some- 
body fetch the gardener ! " 

The gardener was not to be found, but the gate 
was open. Leopold II. walked in without hesita- 
tion, followed by Baron Snoy, my colleague, 
M. Olivi, and myself, hurried along the deserted 
paths and praised the beauty of the vegetation; 
but, when it became time to go, we discovered, to 
our dismay, that some one had locked the gate 
while we were inside. There was no key, no 
possibility of opening it. We called and shouted 
in vain. Nobody appeared. The train was due 
before long; the King began to grow impatient. 
What were we to do ? Olivi had a flash of 
genius. He ran to a shed, the roof of which 
showed above the nearest thicket, and returned 
with a ladder : 

" If Your Majesty does not mind, you will be 
able to get over the wall." 

The King accepted impassively and the ascent 
began. Baron Snoy went up first, then I ; and the 
King, in his turn, climbed the rungs, supported 
by Olivi. Baron Snoy and I, perched on the 
top of the wall, hoisted the King after us. We 
were joined by Olivi; and then a dreadful thing 
happened : the ladder swayed and fell ! There 
we were, all four of us, astride the wall, swinging 
T2 275 



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our legs, without any means of getting down on 
the other side. 

" We look like burglars," said the King, with a 
forced laugh. 

There was nothing for it but to jump. The 
distance from the top of the wall to the 
roadside slope was not great; and Baron Snoy, 
Olivi and I succeeded in falling on our feet without 
great difficulty. The King, however, who limped 
in one leg and lacked agility, could not think of it. 
Then Olivi, who certainly proved himself a 
most resourceful man that day, solved the prob- 
lem. He suggested that the King should climb 
down upon our shoulders. The King accord- 
ingly let himself slide on to the shoulders of 
Baron Snoy, who passed him on to Olivi's back, 
while I caught hold of his long legs and deposited 
his huge feet safely on the ground ! 

Some years later, seeing Olivi at the station at 
Nice : 

" I remember you, M. Olivi," said Leopold II. 
" You took part in our great gymnastic display 
at Antibes." 
" I did, Sir." 

" Well, do you know, M. Olivi, there is no need 
for me to climb the wall now. I have the key; 
the property is mine." 

The whole man is pictured in this anecdote. 
Even as he gave numberless signs of avarice 
and meanness in the material details of life, so he 
displayed an almost alarming extravagance once 
it became a question of satisfying a whim, 
276 



THE LATE KING OF THE BELGIANS 

although he would carefully calculate the advan- 
tages of any such whim beforehand. And to 
increase the number of his landed properties 
was with him a genuine monomania, a sort of 
methodical madness. 

At the bottom of his character lay certain 
precepts which belonged to the great middle class 
of 1840, and which had survived from the middle- 
class education imparted to him in his youth. 
It was thus that he was brought to think that the 
amount of a man's wealth is to be measured by 
the amount of real estate which he possesses. 
He fought shy of stocks and shares, because of the 
frequent fluctuations to which they are subjected. 
On the other hand, he felt a constant satisfaction 
— I was almost saying a rapturous delight — in the 
acquisition of land, in turning his cash into acres 
of soil and investing his fortune in marble or bricks 
and mortar, because he looked upon these as 
more solid and lasting. 

It goes without saying that, during his long 
visits to the south, he escaped as much of the 
official and social drudgery as he could. He saw 
very little of his illustrious cousins staying on the 
Riviera; avoided dinners and garden-parties; 
and, when not at work, spent his time in long and 
interminable walks, or else went and sat on a 
bench in some public garden or by the sea, and 
there steeped himself in his reflections. Some- 
times, when he was in a hurry to get back, he 
would take the tram or hail a fly, always picking 
out the oldest and shabbiest. 

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One day, at his wish, I beckoned to a driver on 
the rank at Nice. 

" No, no, not that one," he said. " Call the 
other man, over there : the one with the horse 
that looks half -dead." 

" But the carriage seems very dirty, Sir," I 
ventured to remark. 

" Just so : as he drives such an uninviting 
conveyance, he must be doing bad business; we 
must try and help him." 

Leopold II. had a knack of performing these 
sudden and unexpected acts of kindness. 

He was a sceptic to the verge of indifference 
and yet entertained odd antipathies and aversions. 
For instance, he hated the piano and was terrified 
of a cold in the head. Whenever he had to select 
a new aide-de-camp, he always began by asking 
two questions : 

" Do you play the piano ? Do you catch cold 
easily ? " 

If the officer replied in the negative, the King 
said, " That's all right," and the aide-de-camp 
was appointed; but, if, by ill-luck, the poor 
fellow returned an evasive answer, his doom was 
told : he went straight back to his regiment. 

This inexplicable dread of the corizza had 
attained such proportions that, during the last 
years of the King's life, the people about him — 
including the ladies — discovered a simple and 
ingenious expedient for obtaining a day's leave 
when they wanted it : they simply sneezed with- 
out stopping. At the third explosion, the old 
278 



THE LATE KING OF THE BELGIANS 

sovereign gave a suspicious look at the sneezer 
and said : 

" I sha'n't want you to-day." 

And the trick was done. 

He had his idiosyncrasies, like most mortals. 
For instance, he used to have four buckets of 
sea-water dashed over his body every morning, 
by way of a bath ; he expected partridges to be 
served at his meals all the year round; and he 
had his newspapers ironed like pocket-handker- 
chiefs before reading them : he could not endure 
anything like a fold or crease in them. Lastly, 
when addressing the servants, he always spoke 
of himself in the third person. Thus he would 
say to his chauffeur, " Wait for him" instead of 
" Wait for me" Those new to his service, who 
had not been warned, were puzzled to know what 
mysterious person he referred to. 

A strange eccentric, you will say. No doubt; 
although these oddities are difficult to under- 
stand in the case of a man who displayed the 
most practical mind, the most lucid intelligence 
and the shrewdest head for business, the moment 
he was brought face to face with the facts of 
daily life. But, I repeat, to those who knew him 
best he appeared in the light of a constant and 
bewildering puzzle ; and this was shown not only 
in the peculiarity of his manners, but in the 
incongruity of his sentiments. How are we to 
explain why this King should feel an infinite 
love for children, this stern King who was so hard 
and sometimes so cruel in his treatment of those 

2T9 



MY ROYAL CLIENTS 

to whom by rights he ought never to have closed 
his heart nor refused his indulgence ? Yet the 
tall old man worshipped the little ones. They 
were almost the only creatures whose greetings 
he returned; and he would go carefully out of 
his way, when strolling along a beach, rather 
than spoil their sand-castles. How are we to 
explain the deep-seated, intense and jealous 
delight which he, so insensible to the softer 
emotions of mankind, felt at the sight of the 
fragile beauty of a rare flower ? How are we 
to explain why he reserved the kindness and 
gentleness which he so harshly refused to his wife 
and daughters for his unfortunate sister, the 
Empress Charlotte, whose mysterious madness 
had kept her for forty-two years a lonely prisoner 
within the high walls of the Chateau de Bou- 
chout ? And yet, every morning of those forty- 
two years, he never failed, when at Laeken, to 
go alone across the park to that silent dwelling 
and spend two hours in solitary converse with the 
tragic widow. Each day, with motherly solici- 
tude, he personally supervised the smallest details 
of that shattered existence. 



The King never allowed any outsider to inter- 
fere in his affairs, whether public or private. He 
discussed none of his schemes before it was com- 
pleted and before he had drawn up his plan of 

execution down to the minutest details : 
280 



THE LATE KING OF THE BELGIANS 

" It shall be so," he used to declare; and no 
one ever dreamt of opposing his will so plainly 
expressed. 

It was in this way that he conducted his 
enormous Congo enterprise entirely by himself. 
The different phases of this business are too well 
known for me to recapitulate them here. One 
of them, however — the first phase — has been very 
seldom discussed and deserves to be recalled, for 
it throws a great light not only upon the King's 
conceptive genius, but also upon his diplomatic 
astuteness and his amazing cynicism. 

In 1884, Leopold II., who had for years been 
obsessed by the longing to lay hands upon the 
Congo territory, promoted an international con- 
ference in order to spoil the West- African treaty 
which had lately been concluded between Great 
Britain and Portugal, and which hindered the 
realization of his secret ambitions. He now 
conceived the subtle and intelligent idea of 
inducing the congress to proclaim the Congo 
an independent State, with himself as its 
recognized sovereign. 

There was only one person in Europe possessed 
of sufficient authority to bring about the adoption 
of this daring plan; and that was Bismarck. 
Bismarck was the necessary instrument; but 
how was he to be persuaded ? Faced with this 
difficulty, Leopold II. hit upon the idea of send- 
ing to Berlin a journalist, whom he knew to be a 
clever and talented man, with instructions to cap- 
ture the Iron Chancellor's confidence. Leopold 

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coached this journalist, a gentleman of the name 
of Gantier, to such good purpose that, as the 
result of a campaign directed from Brussels 
by the King himself, M. Gantier managed 
within a few months to insinuate himself into 
Bismarck's immediate surroundings, to interest 
him in the Congo question, and to prove to him 
that Germany would derive incomparable benefits 
from proclaiming the independence of the Congo 
and entrusting its administration to a neutral 
sovereign like the King of the Belgians. 

The stratagem was successful from start to 
finish. The Congress of Berlin, on the motion 
of the chancellor, proclaimed the Congo an in- 
dependent territory with Leopold II. for its 
sovereign. We know the result : the Congo is 
at this day a Belgian colony. Leopold, in a 
word, had " dished " Prince Bismarck. 

Unfortunately for the King's memory, whereas 
the masterly fashion in which he succeeded in 
forcing the hand of Europe in this matter is 
bound to meet with unreserved praise, history 
will be less inclined to congratulate him upon 
the means which he employed to impose his 
sovereign authority and his colonizing schemes 
upon the Congo. 

I will not take upon myself either to justify 
or to criticize his policy in the " Free State." It 
is a question outside my province. Neverthe- 
less, I consider that I am in duty bound to tell 
what I know about the matter with the impar- 
tiality of a chronicler who has confined himself 
282 



THE LATE KING OF THE BELGIANS 

to hearing and observing the things that were 
said and done around him. 

I was with the King at the time, following upon 
the revelations of the missionaries, when the 
campaign was started in England against the 
atrocities committed by the Belgian authorities 
in the Congo. He affected an attitude of the 
most utter indifference to these attacks. I knew, 
however, that they bothered him and caused him 
a certain uneasiness, because of the prejudice 
which they might rouse against his enterprise. 

While he refrained from communicating his 
impressions to me, he opened his mind to certain 
political personages whom he honoured with his 
confidence : 

" When a man has accepted the task of 
civilizing a country," he would say to them, 
" and has devoted his intelligence, his work and 
his fortune to it, as I have done, surely he is 
entitled to some credit." 

It was a poor argument, I admit, in reply to 
the terrible accusations which had been hurled 
against the administration of the Congo. 

To tell the truth, Leopold II. made no en- 
deavour to defend himself. When his represent- 
atives in the Congo Free State were reproached 
with employing Draconian measures, tending 
towards the gradual extermination of the natives, 
his answer was that these methods were indis- 
pensable in dealing with a race which refused 
to allow the wealth of its country to be 
developed, and which offered a systematic oppo- 

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sition, in every conceivable way, to the work 
of civilization ! And the King would quote 
precedents in favour of his theory. Thus, one 
day, he said to a French journalist who was 
interviewing him on the subject : 

44 The Americans are uniting with the English 
in accusing me of cruelty to the natives of the 
Congo, all because I consider it expedient to 
reduce them to impotence and because I wish to 
throw open to civilization their magnificent 
territories, which have remained uncultivated far 
too long. Now I am only following the example 
of the Americans themselves, when they gradually 
expelled the Indians from the United States, and 
of the English, when they made themselves 
masters of India." 

Leopold II., as the reader sees, made no 
attempt to meet the accusations with a positive 
denial : he simply sought to explain his methods. 
The fact is that, as I have said before, he was 
inaccessible to humanitarian considerations in 
matters of politics. He kept his eyes fixed 
exclusively on the object which he proposed to 
attain : the means, as long as they were effective, 
left him indifferent. 

Is this equal to saying that he approved of all 
that was done in his name ? I do not think so. 
The measures which he had enacted gave 
the Belgian concessionaries the right to exact 
labour from the natives without remuneration, 
thus instituting a sort of slavery, and granted 
unlimited powers to the officials. They were 
284 



THE LATE KING OF THE BELGIANS 

necessarily bound to lead to intolerable abuses, 
abuses also prompted, in the case of both officials 
and concessionaries, by the fear of solitude and 
by the intoxication that results from the exercise 
of absolute power. Nevertheless, I must add, in 
defence of the King, that it was difficult, if not 
impossible, for him to know precisely what acts 
were being committed in the Congo in his name. 
The impartial elements which were indispensable, 
if he was to be kept informed with exactitude, 
were entirely lacking. The English reports, 
which he was naturally inclined to charge with 
exaggeration, were contradicted by the Belgian 
reports submitted to him, which evidently ex- 
tenuated facts of which they were not able to 
deny the reality. 

The reproach that might be levelled against 
him with the greatest amount of justice was that 
he did not at the very outset appoint the com- 
mittee of enquiry whose conclusions, as everybody 
knows, recognized the necessity of immediate 
reforms in the administration of the Congo. But 
Leopold II., as I have said, did not believe in 
advice or advisers. He had to feel threatened 
in his security before he would consent to allow 
any outside interference in this matter of the 
Congo, which he looked upon as a purely personal 
matter. 

As he drew nearer the tomb, his worries and 

activities increased. It was as though he had 

received a mysterious warning to tell him that 

his years were now numbered and that he must 

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hasten the realization of his numerous and 
immense schemes. Apart from his work on the 
Congo, which was violently attacked both by poli- 
ticians of all parties abroad and by the opposition 
at home, his other vast undertakings also became 
the object of fierce criticism on the part of his 
adversaries, who considered that he was neglect- 
ing the political evolution of the country in order 
to devote himself entirely to his plans for trans- 
forming the town of Brussels. He was so well 
aware of this state of opinion that, when the 
burgomaster of the capital, his friend and fellow- 
worker M. Mott, came to congratulate the King 
on his last birthday, Leopold said : 

" Let us hope that I shall have time to com- 
plete my work." 

" Why not, Sir ? " replied M. Mott. " You 
and I are of the same age ; and you are stronger 
and haler than I am." 

" Never mind, monsieur le bourgmestre : 
remember that, when one of us closes his eyes, 
the other will have to keep his open ! " 

It was written, in fact, that Leopold II. should 
be called away before fully realizing his colossal 
dreams and settling his intricate personal affairs. 
He was working up to the very moment of his 
death ; as everybody knows, his mind remained 
clear to the end, nor did his hostility towards his 
family waver for an instant. He died as he had 
lived, inaccessible, haughty and sceptical. 



286 



CHAPTER X 

THE ENGLISH ROYAL FAMILY 



While compiling these recollections, I have 
more than once had occasion, in passing, to 
mention different " faces " belonging to the Royal 
Family of England. They occur at most of the 
sovereign courts ; for it was no empty phrase that 
used to describe Queen Victoria as " the grand- 
mother of Europe." There was never a truer 
saying. Even as, in whichever direction beyond- 
seas we turn our eyes, we behold the British 
flag waving in the breeze, in the same way, if 
we study the pedigree of any royal house, we 
are almost always certain to discover an English 
alliance. 

The long years which I spent in the service of 
Queen Victoria and the confidence with which 
she honoured me by admitting me to her intimacy 
enabled me to become acquainted with several 
members of that large, united and gracious 
family; and I am bound to say that not one of 
them has forgotten me. They all deign to give 
me a little corner in the memories of their child- 
hood and youth; they are good enough to re- 
member that, in the old days, when they came to 

Nice, Aix, Biarritz or Cannes to pay their duty 

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to their grandmother and to bring her the 
youthful tribute of their smiles, there was 
always, in the old-fashioned landau that carried 
the good Queen along the country roads, or 
walking beside her donkey-chair, somebody who 
shared the general gaiety and whom the Queen 
treated with affectionate kindness. That " some- 
body " was myself. 

I thus had the honour of seeing King George V., 
when he was still wearing the modest uniform 
of a naval lieutenant, and, later, of knowing- 
Queen Mary, when she was only Duchess of 
York and Cornwall. And I hope that she will 
permit me, in this connection, to recall an inci- 
dent that diverted Queen Victoria's little circle 
for a whole evening. It happened during a visit 
which the Duchess of York was paying to the 
Queen at Nice. I had informed the venerable 
sovereign that the " ladies of the fishmarket " — 
one of the oldest corporations at Nice — wished 
to offer her some flowers; and the Queen asked 
the Duchess of York to receive them in her stead 
and to express her sincere thanks for their kind 
wishes. 

The good women handed the Duchess their 
bouquets ; and I then saw that they were shy and 
at a loss what to do or say next. So I whispered 
to them : 

" Go and kiss that gentleman over there," 
pointing to Colonel Carrington, the Queen's 
equerry. " That is by far the best speech that 
you could make ! " 
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The ladies evidently approved of my suggestion, 
for they forthwith, one and all, flung themselves 
upon the colonel's neck; and he, though flurried 
and a little annoyed, had to submit with the best 
grace possible to this volley of kisses under the 
eyes of the princess, who laughed till the tears ran 
down her cheeks. 

When I apologized to him afterwards for the 
abominable trick which I had played him : 

" Ah," he sighed, " if only they had been good- 
looking! " 

The fact is that none of the ladies evoked 
the most distant memories of the Venus of 
Milo! 

Thanks to the recollections of those bygone 
years, of which any number of charming and 
amusing stories could be told, I was no stranger 
to the Duke and Duchess of York, when, after 
the accession of King Edward VIL, they were 
raised to the title of Prince and Princess of Wales 
and travelled across France, under my protection, 
on their way to Brindisi, where they were going 
to take ship for India. 

" I will present you to the prince myself," said 
Princess May, with exquisite and simple kindliness, 
when she saw me waiting for them in the railway- 
station at Calais. And she continued, " George, 
this is M. Paoli : you remember him, don't 
you ? " 

" I remember," said the prince, giving me his 

hand, " how much my grandmother liked you 

and the affection which she showed you. I need 
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hardly say that we feel just the same to you 
ourselves." 

I could not have hoped for a more cordial 
welcome from the prince whose features bore so 
striking a resemblance to those of the Emperor of 
Russia, whom I had just left. 

This journey was a particularly pleasant one 
for me, as it enabled me to forgather once more 
with an old and faithful friend in the person of 
the prince's secretary, of whom I had seen a great 
deal at the time when he was private secretary to 
Queen Victoria, and who now occupies the same 
position under King George V. : I refer to Sir 
Arthur Bigge, now Lord Stamfordham. 

Sir Arthur belongs to that race of servants of 
the monarchy whose zeal and devotion cease only 
with their death. He had a curious adventure 
at the time of the interview between Queen 
Victoria and the late M. Felix Faure at Noisy- 
le-Sec. The story has never been told before; 
and I have no hesitation in publishing it, 
because it does great credit to the generosity of 
feeling of the then President of the Republic. 

The Queen was on her way to Nice, that year, 
and had expressed a wish to meet M. Felix Faure, 
whom she did not know. The interview was 
arranged to take place during the stop of the royal 
train at Noisy Junction; and it had acquired a 
certain solemnity owing to the political circum- 
stances of the moment. We began by witnessing 
a long private conversation between the Queen 
and the President through the windows of the 
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royal saloon-carriage, after which, in accordance 
with the usual etiquette, they presented the 
members of their respective suites. When it 
came to Colonel Bigge's turn, the Queen said to 
M. Faure, without the least idea of mischief: 

" My private secretary, Sir Arthur Bigge, who 
enjoys all my confidence and all my esteem. 
Besides, I expect you know his name : it was he 
who accompanied the Empress Eugenie on her 
sad pilgrimage to Zululand and helped her to 
recover the body of her poor son." 

The President bowed, without moving a muscle 
of his face or uttering a word ; and Sir Arthur, 
greatly embarrassed by the terms of the present- 
ation, thought the best thing to do was to lie low 
and keep out of the way. How great, therefore, 
was his surprise when, after everybody had been 
presented, he heard his name called by M. Felix 
Faure. 

" What can he want with me ? " he asked, 
rather uneasily. 

As soon as they were alone, the President said 
to him, point-blank : 

" As a Frenchman, I wished to thank you for 
the devotion which you have shown to one of our 
fellow-countrywomen in circumstances so terrible 
for her. You behaved like a man of heart. I 
congratulate you." 

M. Faure had the knack of enhancing the 

character of his office and winning the respectful 

sympathy of foreigners by happy flashes of 

inspiration of this kind. 

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But I am wandering from my subject. To 
return to the Prince of Wales, the cordiality of the 
reception which he gave me at Calais promised 
me a charming journey. In point of fact, I was 
able, during the run across France, to perceive 
how fond both the prince and princess were of 
simplicity and gaiety. They were evidently 
delighted to be going to India, although the 
princess could not accustom herself to the idea of 
leaving her children. As for the prince, he was 
revelling beforehand in the length of the voyage : 

" One never feels really alive except on board 
ship," he said to me. " What do you think, 
M. Paoli ? " 

" I think, Sir," I replied, " that I must ask 
Your Royal Highness to allow me to differ. 
When I am on board ship, I sometimes feel more 
like dying." 

" You're not the only one," he retorted, with a 
side-glance at one of his equerries, who stood 
without wincing. 

The prince liked teasing people; but his chaff 
was never cruel and he accompanied it with so 
much kindness that there was no question of 
taking offence at it. At heart, the prince had 
remained the middie that he once was, a " good 
sort," full of fun, full of "go," fond of laughing 
and interested in everything. 

We chatted in the train until very late at night, 
for I did not leave the prince until we reached 
Modane, the station on the Italian frontier where 

my service ended. 
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I saw him next at the Queen of Spain's wedding, 
and again in 1908. The prince and princess had 
just spent a week in Paris, for the first time in 
their lives, and were returning to England 
delighted with their stay. The special train had 
hardly left the Gare du Nord, when the Hon. 
Derek Keppel, who was with the prince, came to 
me in my compartment : 

" M. Paoli," he said, " I am commanded by 
Their Royal Highnesses to ask you to give them 
the pleasure of your company to luncheon." 

I at once went to the royal saloon. The prince 
was chatting with M. Hua, his sons' French tutor, 
a very agreeable and scholarly man, whom he 
treated as a friend; the princess was talking to 
Lady Eva Dugdale, her lady-in-waiting. It 
goes without saying that the conversation was 
all about Paris and the impressions which the 
prince and princess had received from their 
trips to Versailles, Chantilly, Fontainebleau and 
Chartres. 

" I can understand my father's admiration and 
affection for France," said the prince to me. " It 
is a magnificent country and an interesting people. 
I am glad that the entente cordiale has strengthened 
the bonds of friendship between the two nations. 
I must come and see you oftener." 

While the prince was saying these pleasant 
things, I was surprised to observe his valet 
depositing two apparently verv heavv hampers 

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on the floor in the middle of the carriage ; but my 
astonishment was still greater when I saw the 
princess herself open one of the hampers and take 
out a table-cloth, plates, a chicken, tumblers — in 
short, a complete lunch. 

" By the way," said the prince, " I forgot to 
tell you, there's no restaurant-car in the train, 
so we shall have a picnic here. It will be much 
better fun ! " 

And it was. The man put out two folding- 
tables which were in the carriage; and then, at 
the princess's suggestion, we all helped to lay the 
cloth ! One looked after the plates, another the 
glasses, a third the knives and forks, while the 
princess herself carved the cold fowl. 

When everything was at last ready, we sat down 
around this makeshift luncheon-table and, with 
a splendid will, did justice to our meal, which, 
I may say, was excellent. The proprietor of 
the Hotel Bristol, who had packed the ham- 
pers, had had the happy thought of adding a 
couple of bottles of champagne; and these were 
the cause of an incident that crowned the gaiety 
of this merry lunch. The prince declared that 
he would open them himself. Asking for the first 
bottle, he prepared to draw the cork with a thou- 
sand cunning precautions ; but he certainly failed 
to reckon with the extraordinary impatience of 
that accursed cork, which was no sooner freed of 
its restraining bonds than it escaped from the 
prince's hands and went off like a pistol-shot, 
while the wine drenched the princess's dress. 
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The prince was very sorry, but the princess laughed 
the thing off and declared that " it didn't 
stain." She had her skirt wiped down at once 
with water; and the luncheon finished as gaily 
as it began. 

As I was taking leave of her on board the ship 
that was to convey the illustrious travellers from 
Calais to Dover : 

" Do come and see us in England," she said. 
" I should like to show you my children : you 
have never met them." 

" Madam," I replied, " I would do so with 
pleasure, if my duties allowed me to take a holi- 
day. Meanwhile, may I respectfully remind 
Your Royal Highness that, on the last journey, 
you promised me the young princes' photo- 
graph ? " 

" That's true," she answered, " I forgot all 
about it. But, this time — wait." And, taking 
her handkerchief from her waistband, the princess 
made a knot in it. " Now I'm sure to remember," 
she added, with a smile. 

And, two days later, I received a splendid 
photograph of the children, adorned with their 
mother's signature. 

Nearly three years have passed since this last 
journey and I have not had the honour of seeing 
King George and Queen Mary since. Neverthe- 
less, they are good enough to think of me some- 
times, as will be seen by the following affectionate 
letter which my friend Sir Arthur Bigge sent me 
on my retirement : — 

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« Marlborough House, Pall Mall, S.W., Feby. 28th, 1909. 

" My Dear Paoli, 

" Your letter to me of the 24th inst. has 
been laid before the Prince and Princess of Wales, 
who received with feelings of deep regret the 
announcement that you had asked for and ob- 
tained permission to retire. Their Royal High- 
nesses are indeed sorry to think that they will 
never again have the advantage of your valuable 
services so efficiently and faithfully rendered, and 
which always greatly conduced to the pleasure 
and comfort of Their Royal Highnesses' stay in 
France. At the same time the Prince and Prin- 
cess rejoice to know that you will now enjoy a 
well-merited repose after forty-two years of an 
anxious and strenuous service : and they trust 
that you may live to enjoy many years of health 
and happiness. 

" Their Royal Highnesses are greatly touched 
by your words of loyal devotion, and thank you 
heartily for these kind sentiments. 

" As to myself, the thought of your retirement 
reminds me that a precious link with the past and 
especially with the memory of our great and 
beloved Queen Victoria is now broken. I re- 
member so well the first time we met at Modane 
when Her Majesty was travelling to Italy, and you 
will ever be inseparably connected in my thoughts 
with those happy days spent in Her Majesty's ser- 
vice in France. I can well imagine what interest 
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you will find in writing your book of reminis- 
cences. 

" Good-bye, my dear Paoli, and believe me to be 
" your old and devoted friend, 

" Arthur Bigge." 



I intended, in this chapter, to speak of those 
members of the royal family with whom my long 
and frequent service about the person of Queen 
Victoria gave me the occasion to come into con- 
tact ; and I must not omit to mention a princess, 
now no more, a woman of lofty intelligence and 
great heart, whom life did not spare the most 
cruel sorrows after granting her the proudest 
destinies. I refer to the Empress Frederick of 
Germany, eldest daughter of Queen Victoria and 
mother of William II. 

I made her acquaintance in rather curious 
circumstances. It was at the naval review held 
by Queen Victoria in 1897, on the occasion of her 
Diamond Jubilee. As a special favour, I was 
invited to see this magnificent sight on board the 
Alberta, and I was gazing with wondering eyes 
at the majestic fleet of ironclads through which 
the royal yacht had just begun to steam, when I 
heard a voice behind me say, in the purest 
Tuscan : 

" Bongiorno, Signor Paoli." 

I turned round. A woman, still young in 
bearing, though her face was crowned with grey 

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hair under a widow's bonnet, stood before me 
with outstretched hand : 

44 1 see," she said, smiling at my surprise, 
" that you do not know me. I am the Empress 
Frederick. I have often heard of you, and I 
wanted to know you and to thank you for your 
attentions to my mother." 

I bowed low, thinking what an uncommon 
occurrence it must be for a Frenchman to meet a 
German empress, talking Italian, on an English 
boat ; and she continued : 

44 I know that you are a Corsican ; and that is 
why I am speaking to you in your native language, 
which I learnt at Florence, and which I love as 
much as I do my own." 

The Empress Frederick, in fact, was remark- 
ably well-educated, as are all the English prin- 
cesses. She knew French as fluently as Italian 
and hardly ever spoke German, except to her 
chamberlain, Count Wedel. I was able to see, 
during our conversation, that she took a lively 
interest in my country ; she asked me a thousand 
questions about France and particularly about 
French artists : 

44 1 am a great admirer of M. Detaille's works," 
she said, and added, after a pause, 44 He is very like 
the Emperor, my son. Don't you think so ? " 

I thought it the moment for prudence : 

44 I have never had the honour of seeing the 
Emperor William," I replied, 44 and therefore I 
cannot tell Your Imperial Majesty if the resem- 
blance has struck me." 
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She then changed the conversation and spoke 
of the celebrations which were being prepared 
in her mother's honour. 

The only other occasion on which I saw her 
was two years later, when she crossed French soil 
to go from England to Italy. This time, she was 
nervous and ill at ease : 

" Can you assure me," she asked, as she 
landed at Calais, " that I shall meet with no 
unpleasantness between this and the Italian 
frontier ? " 

" Why, what are you afraid of, Ma'am ? " I 
asked. 

" You forget, M. Paoli, that I am the widow of 
the German Emperor, and that, as such, I am 
no favourite in this country. Suppose I were 
recognized ! There are memories, as you know, 
which French patriotism refuses to dismiss." 

She was alluding not only to the events of 1870, 
but to the bad impression made in Paris by the 
visit which she had paid, a few years earlier — 
without any ulterior motive — to the ruined palace 
of Saint-Cloud, forgetting that it had been 
destroyed and sacked by the Prussians. I re- 
assured her, nevertheless, and said that I was 
prepared to vouch for the respect that would 
be shown her. 

The journey, I need hardly say, passed off 
without a hitch. The Empress, with her suite, 
entered the private saloon-carriage of her brother, 
the Prince of Wales, which was coupled to the 
Paris mail-train and afterwards transferred to the 

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Nice express, for the Empress was travelling to 
Bordighera, on the Italian Riviera. 

She dared not leave her carriage during the 
short stop which was made in Paris ; but, when we 
arrived at Marseilles the next morning, she said : 

" I should awfully like to take a little exercise. 
I have been eighteen hours in this carriage ! " 

" But please do, Ma'am," I at once replied. " I 
promise you that nothing disagreeable will happen 
to you." 

She thereupon decided to take my advice. 
She stepped down on the platform and walked 
about among the passengers. She was received 
on every side with marks of deferential respect— 
for, of course, her incognito had been betrayed, as 
every incognito should be— and suddenly felt 
encouraged to such an extent that, from that 
moment, she alighted at every stop. Gradually, 
indeed, as her confidence increased, she took 
longer and longer in returning to her carriage, 
so much so that she very nearly lost the train at 
Nice; and, when I took leave of her at Bordi- 
ghera, she said, as she gave me her hand to kiss : 
"Forgive me, my fears were absurd. Now, 
I have but one wish, to make a fresh stay in 
France. . . . Who knows ? Perhaps next year." 
I do not know what circumstances prevented 
her from fulfilling her hopes; and the next time 
I heard of her was at Queen Victoria's funeral. 
I was astonished not to see her there and asked 
the reason of her chamberlain, Count Wedel, who 
sat beside me in St. George's Chapel at Windsor. 

o(J0 



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" Alas," he said, " our poor Empress is confined 
to her bed by a terrible illness ! Think how she 
must suffer : her whole body is one great aching 
sore ! " 

A few months later, she was dead. 



I had had but a more or less fleeting vision of 
this amiable sovereign, whose fate, though not so 
tragic as that of the Empress Elizabeth of Austria, 
was but little happier. On the other hand, I had 
opportunities of coming into much more frequent 
and constant contact with two of her sisters, 
Princess Christian of Schleswig-Holstein and 
Princess Henry of Battenberg. 

Closely though these two princesses resemble 

each other in the admirable filial affection which 

they showed their mother, they are entirely 

different in disposition. Whereas the elder, who 

is generally known as the Princess Christian, is 

always ready to talk to those about her, Princess 

Beatrice, the younger, is comparatively silent 

and almost self-contained, but without the 

least affectation: in fact, I have seldom met 

a princess more simple in her habits or more 

easy of access to poor folk. This contrast in 

their attitude towards life comes, I think, from a 

difference in their temperaments and tastes. The 

Princess Christian has inherited the homely 

virtues of the German princesses : she interests 

herself mainly in philanthropic and social ques- 

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tions. The Princess Henry, on the contrary, 
feels a marked attraction for literature and the 
arts, which she cultivates with a real talent; 
and, like all those who are endowed with an active 
brain, she loves to isolate herself from the outside 
world. 

I must say that I never knew the Princess 
Christian as well as I did her sister, for the very 
good reason that she did not accompany Queen 
Victoria to France as often as the Princess Henry. 
Her arrival at Nice was usually later than that of 
the Queen and she very seldom remained until 
the end of Her Majesty's stay. 

I remember, however, that, one year, they 
returned to England together; and, in this con- 
nection, I have a story to tell which goes to show 
how keenly alive the great of this earth can 
be to the smallest attentions paid them. The 
royal train, which had left Nice in the morning, 
pulled up, at five o'clock in the afternoon, as 
usual, at a little country- station between Avignon 
and Tarascon, in order to enable the Queen to take 
her tea without being inconvenienced by the 
jolting of the wheels. Seeing me pacing the plat- 
form, the Princess Christian stepped from the 
carriage and walked up and down beside me. In 
the course of our conversation, she began to talk 
of her children : 

" Think of it ! " she said, with a certain melan- 
choly. ' ' My daughter Victoria will be thirty years 
old to-morrow — for to-morrow is her birthday. 
How time flies ! " 
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THE ENGLISH ROYAL FAMILY 

Princess Victoria was also one of the travelling- 
party. As soon, therefore, as the Princess Chris- 
tian had left me, I scribbled a telegram to the 
special commissary at Caen, in Normandy, where 
we were to stop for a few minutes, next day, on 
our way to Cherbourg, and told him to order a 
bouquet and hand it to me as the train passed 
through. 

The following morning, when we entered the 
station at Caen, I found my bouquet awaiting 
me : a modest nosegay, consisting of all the rustic 
flowers of the fields, which my worthy commissary 
had had gathered in the morning dew. I at once 
presented it to Princess Victoria, wishing her many 
happy returns of her birthday; and I cannot say 
which of the four of us — the Queen, the two 
princesses or I — was most touched by the affec- 
tionate gratitude which they all three expressed 
to me. 



But, as I have said above, of all Queen Victoria's 
daughters, the one whom I knew best was the 
Princess Henry of Battenberg. In point of fact, 
she hardly ever left her august mother's side, from 
the day when her married bliss received so cruel 
a blow in the tragic death of her husband, and 
when distress of mind found a refuge and peace 
in the love of that mother, whose heart was 
always rilled with the most delicate compassion 

for every sorrow. 

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A close link had been formed between those 
two women : the Princess Henry had become the 
confidante of Queen Victoria's thoughts and was 
also, very often, the intermediary of her acts of 
discreet munificence. At Nice, she occupied the 
magnificent Villa Liserb, close to the hotel at 
which the Queen resided. Here I watched the 
games and the physical development of the 
princess's four children, Prince Alexander, Prince 
Maurice, Prince Leopold and little Princess Ena, 
little thinking that I should live to see the heavy 
crown of Charles V. and Philip II. placed upon the 
pretty, golden hair which was then still tied back 
with pale-blue ribbons. Day after day, for 
many years, I saw those same children hail 
their grandmother's appearance with cries of 
delight. 

The daily drive in the grounds of the Villa 
Liserb was one of Queen Victoria's favourite 
pleasures. She went there in her chair drawn 
by Jacquot, the grey donkey, solemnly led by the 
Hindoo servant, whose gaudy attire, like a mon- 
strous flower, struck a loud note of colour against 
the green of the surrounding foliage. Slowly and 
smoothly, with infinite care, the little carriage 
advanced along the garden-paths which the 
pines, eucalyptus and olive-trees shaded with 
their luxurious tresses. The Queen, holding the 
reins for form's sake, would cast her eyes from 
side to side in search of her grandchildren, who 
were usually crouching in the flower-beds or hiding 
behind the trees, happy in constantly renewing 
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the innocent conspiracy of a surprise — always 
the same — which they prepared for their grand- 
mother, and which consisted in suddenly bursting 
out around her. 

Or else a shuttlecock or a hoop would stray 
between Jacquot's legs. 

" Stop, Jacquot ! " cried the children. 

And Jacquot, best-tempered of donkeys, would 
stop all the more readily as he knew that his 
patience would be rewarded with a lump of 
sugar. 

The Princess Henry of Battenberg spent long 
hours in this wonderful, smiling oasis, dividing her 
time between the education of her children, which 
she supervised and directed in person, and her 
own intellectual pursuits, to which she devoted 
herself ardently. She used to draw and paint 
very prettily, at that time ; and she never forgot 
to take her sketch-book with her when accom- 
panying the Queen on her drives in the neigh- 
bourhood of Nice. She sat and sketched while 
tea was being prepared in some picturesque 
spot where the royal carriage halted for the 
purpose. 

She was a first-rate musician, played the 
harmonium on Sundays in the chapel of the Hotel 
Regina and often entered the Catholic churches 
during the services, in order to listen to the sacred 
music, which she preferred above all others. 
In this way, she came to appreciate more par- 
ticularly the talent of a young organist called 
Pons, now a distinguished composer, who, at that 
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time, used to play the organ at the church of 
Notre-Dame at Nice. This artist, who was a 
native of the south of France, possessed a remark- 
able gift of improvisation which amazed the 
princess so greatly that she was always speaking 
of it to the Queen : 

" You really ought to hear him," she would 
say. 

"But he can't bring his organ to the hotel!" 
the Queen replied, laughing. 

" Why should you not go to his church ? I 
assure you that you will not regret it." 

The Queen, who was easily persuaded by her 
daughter, ended by consenting to visit Notre- 
Dame one afternoon, on condition that she should 
be alone there, with her suite, during the little 
recital which the organist was to give for her 
benefit. Princess Beatrice, who was delighted at 
attaining her object, plied me with instructions 
so that the Queen might have a genuine artistic 
surprise : 

" Be sure and see that there is no one in the 
church," she said to me. " And tell M. Pons to 
surpass himself." 

I went and called on the rector and the organist. 
The former very kindly promised to take all the 
necessary steps for his church to be quite empty 
during Her Majesty's visit. As for M. Pons, the 
honour which the Queen was doing him almost 
turned his head. He saw himself the equal of 
Bach and would have accosted Mozart by his 
surname if he had met him in the street : 
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THE ENGLISH ROYAL FAMILY 

" The Queen will be satisfied, I promise you," 
he declared, in his southern sing-song. 

Things passed very nearly as we hoped. At the 
hour agreed upon, the royal landau stopped before 
the door of the church ; the Queen, accompanied 
by the princess and a few persons of her suite, 
including myself, entered the great nave, where 
only a few small lights shone like golden stars 
in the spacious darkness. When the Queen was 
seated in the arm-chair which I had sent on ahead, 
Pons began to shed floods of harmony upon us 
from his organ-loft above. 

Nothing would have disturbed our meditation, 
but for a cat, an enormous black cat, which, after 
prowling behind the pillars, suddenly came up 
to the royal chair unperceived and jumped most 
disrespectfully into Her Majesty's lap ! Picture 
the excitement ! We drove it away. It returned. 
We tried to drive it away again. But it was 
stubborn in its affections and returned once 
more. Thereupon the Queen, who was more 
surprised than annoyed, resigned herself and 
accepted the curious adventure. She stroked 
the animal and kept it with her until the end 
of the recital. 



6 

When Princess Henry of Battenberg did not 

accompany her mother on her drives — which 

happened very rarely — she liked going to the 

Empress Eugenie, who treated her as a daughter, 

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and who, as everybody knows, was the god- 
mother of Queen Victoria Eugenie of Spain. The 
princess would sometimes spend the whole after- 
noon at the villa of Napoleon III.'s widow; one 
year indeed, she and Princess Ena stayed there 
all through the winter. It was on this occasion 
that I found myself placed in a very delicate 
position. 

What occurred was this : the princess sent word 
to me, one day, with the Empress's consent, 
inviting me to dinner at the Villa Cyrnos. I 
was at first a little perplexed. It seemed to me 
a rather ticklish matter, considering my official 
position, to figure at the table of the ex-Empress 
of the French. On the other hand, to refuse the 
invitation seemed tantamount to insulting the 
daughter of the Queen of England, to whom I was 
accredited. At last, I resolved to swallow my 
scruples and accepted. 

That evening, after dinner, when thanking 
the Empress for her kindness, I could not help 
saying : 

" I suppose, Madame, that there are very few 
officials of the Republic who would have dared to 
sit down at Your Majesty's table." 

"To be equally frank with you," the Empress 
at once replied, laughing, " I will ask you to 
believe, my dear M. Paoli, that there are also 
very few officials of the Republic whom I should 
have cared to see seated there like yourself ! " 



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THE ENGLISH ROYAL FAMILY 



I must not close the story of the periods which 
I spent with the royal family at Nice without 
recalling that, on some of those occasions, I also 
met the Marchioness of Lome, now Duchess 
of Argyll, and the Duke of Connaught; but, to 
tell the truth, I only caught glimpses of them, 
because of the shortness of their visits. 

I can also only mention quite casually the name 
of Queen Alexandra, for this charming lady has 
never stayed in France for any length of time. 
With the exception of two visits, of forty-eight 
hours each, with which she honoured Paris when 
she went to France with King Edward, she has 
confined herself to passing through our country 
on her way to Denmark or to join the royal yacht 
at Marseilles or Genoa. On each of the journeys 
during which I was attached to her person, she 
gave me every sign of that captivating and be- 
witching kindness of which she alone appears to 
possess the secret. I also remember perceiving, 
as do all those who approach her, the touching 
affection that unites her to her sister, the Dowager 
Empress of Russia. Each time that she parted 
from her at Calais, to proceed either to Copen- 
hagen or to the south, while the Empress Marie 
Feodorovna was returning to St. Petersburg, she 
never failed to say to me, in a voice full of 
anxiety : 

"M. Paoli, do take the greatest care of my 
sister. Watch over her attentively, I shall not 

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know a moment's peace until I hear that she has 
arrived at the end of her journey." 

The years have passed and it is not without 
pride that I reflect upon the fact that I have 
known four generations of that glorious royal 
family of England ! 

But, alas, it makes me feel no younger ! 






310 



CHAPTER XI 

THE KING OF CAMBODIA 



The King of Cambodia was, so to speak, my 
last " client," at least the last of those whom I 
was " protecting " for the first time, for he had 
never set foot in France when, three years ago, 
I beheld him, in the bright light of a fine morning 
in June, greeting with a loud laugh the port of 
Marseilles, the gold-laced officials who had come 
to receive him, the soldiers, the sailors, the 
porters and the regimental band. 

For he loved laughing. Hilarity with him 
was a habit, a necessity ; it burst forth like a 
flourish of trumpets, it went off like a rocket 
at anything or nothing, suddenly lighting up 
his elderly monkey-face and revealing amidst 
the dark smudge that formed his features a 
dazzling keyboard of ivory teeth. 

Sisowath King of Cambodia struck me as a 
little yellow, dry, sinewy man who had been 
snowed upon, for amid his hard stubble of shiny 
black hairs there gleamed, over the temples, 
patches of white bristles that bore witness to 
his five-and-sixty summers. He still looked 
young, because of the slightness of his figure; 

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and his costume consisted of a singular mis- 
cellany of Cambodian and European garments. 

From the knees to the waist, his dress sug- 
gested the east. Starting from the frontier 
formed by his belt, the west resumed its rights 
and set the fashion ... of the day before 
yesterday ! His feet were clad in shoes re- 
sembling a bishop's, with broad, flat buckles, 
whence rose two spindle-shanks confined in 
black silk stockings and ending in a queer pair 
of breeches of a thin, silky, copper-coloured 
material, something midway between a cyclist's 
knickerbockers and a woman's petticoat and 
known as the sampot, the national dress of 
Cambodia. Over these breeches of uncertain 
cut fell the graceless tails of an eighteenth-century 
dress-coat, opening over a shirt-front crossed 
by the broad ribbon of the Legion of Honour. 
Lastly, this astonishing get-up was topped with 
a rusty tall hat, dating back to the year 1830, 
which crowned the monarch's head. 

All this made him look like a carnival reveller 
who had come fresh from a fancy-dress ball. 
Nevertheless, he took himself very seriously; 
and the French government treated him with 
every consideration, for he represented a valu- 
able asset in the exercise of our protectorate 
over Cambodia. 

Those acquainted with the traditions of the 
Cambodian court will know that, in consenting 
to leave his realms for a time in order to go 
to France, he had broken every religious and 
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THE KING OF CAMBODIA 

political law. To appease the wrath of Buddha 
and relieve his own conscience, before leaving 
his capital, Pnom-Penh, he had sent magnificent 
offerings to the tombs of the Kne-Kne kings, 
bathed in lustral water prepared by the prayers 
of sixty-seven bonzes, invoked the emerald 
statue of the god Berdika, and accepted at the 
hands of the chief Brahmin a leaf of scented 
amber, by way of a lucky charm. 

It was really impossible to surround himself 
with more potent safeguards ; and he had every 
reason to be in a good humour, although he had 
flown into a great rage on the passage at seeing 
his suite abandoning themselves to the tortures 
of sea-sickness : 

" I forbid you to be sick ! " he shouted to 
them. " Those are my orders ; am I the King 
or am I not ? " 

Distracted by the impossibility of obeying, 
they took refuge in the depths of the steamer 
and did not reappear on deck until the ship 
approached the Straits of Messina. And the 
saddened sovereign was made to realize for the 
first time that he was not omnipotent. The fact 
made so great an impression on his mind that, 
from that time forward, he became excessively 
and almost inconveniently polite. He shook 
hands with everybody he saw, beginning with 
the flunkeys at the Marseilles Prefecture, who 
lined the staircase as he went upstairs. 



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Keen as was the interest taken by the public 
in Sisowath, it paled before the curiosity aroused 
by his dancing-girls. They formed an integral 
part of that extraordinary royal suite, in which 
figured three of his ministers, four of his sons, 
his daughter, two sons of King Norodom, his 
predecessor, and eleven favourites, accompanied 
by a swarm of chamberlains, ladies of the bed- 
chamber and pages. 

On the other hand, amid the disorder of that 
Oriental horde, the corps de ballet constituted 
a caste apart, haughty, sacerdotal and self- 
contained. The twenty dancers came to France 
preceded by a great reputation for beauty. It 
may have been the result of beholding them in 
a different setting, under a different sky ; but 
this much is certain, that they did not appear 
to me in the same light in which they had been 
depicted to us by enthusiastic travellers. 

Sisowath's dancing-girls are not exactly pretty, 
judged by our own standard of feminine beauty. 
With their hard and close-cropped hair, their 
figures like those of striplings, their thin, muscular 
legs like those of young boys, their arms and 
hands like those of little girls, they seem to 
belong to no definite sex. They have some- 
thing of the child about them, something of the 
young warrior of antiquity, and something of 
the woman. Their usual dress, which is half 
feminine and half masculine, consisting of the 
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THE KING OF CAMBODIA 

famous sampot worn in creases between their 
knees and their hips and of a silk shawl con- 
fining their shoulders, crossed over the bust and 
knotted at the loins, tends to heighten this 
curious impression. But, in the absence of 
beauty, they possess grace, a supple, captivat- 
ing, royal grace, which is present in their every 
attitude and gesture; they have a perfume of 
fabled legend to accompany them, the sacred 
character of their functions to ennoble them; 
lastly, they have their dances full of mystery 
and majesty and art, those dances which have 
been handed down faithfully in the course of 
the ages, and whose every movement, whose 
every deft curve remains inscribed on the bas- 
reliefs of the ruins of Ankor. For these reasons, 
they are beautiful, with the special beauty that 
clings to remote, inscrutable and fragile things. 

They are all girls of good extraction, for it 
is an honour much sought after by the noble 
families of Cambodia to have a child admitted 
to the King's troupe of dancers. Contrary to 
what has sometimes been asserted, the dancing- 
girls do not form part of the royal harem; 
they are looked upon as vestals : virginal and 
radiant, they perform, in dancing, a more or 
less religious rite. 

When they accompanied Sisowath to France, 

they were under the management of the King's 

own eldest daughter, the Princess Soumphady, 

an ugly, cross-grained old maid, who ruled them 

with an iron hand. The " stars " were four 

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principal dancers, whose names seemed to have 
been picked, like the king's leaves of scented 
amber, in some sacred grove of Buddha's mys- 
terious realm : they were called Miles. Mih, 
Pho, Nuy and Pruong. 



When the whole party were landed, they had 
to be put up ; and this was no easy matter. The 
Marseilles Prefecture was hardly large enough 
to house the King's fabulous and cumbrous 
retinue. We distributed its members over some 
of the neighbouring houses ; but they spent their 
days at the Prefecture, which was then and there 
transformed into the camp of an Asiatic caravan. 
The ante-rooms and passages were blocked with 
pieces of luggage each quainter than the other. 
Heaped up promiscuously were jewel-cases, dress- 
trunks, cases of opium, bales of rice and sacks 
of coal, for the Cambodians, fearing lest they 
should fail to find in Europe the coal which they 
use to cook their rice, had insisted, at all costs, 
on bringing with them two hundred sacks, which 
now lay trailing about upon the Smyrna rugs ! 

When, on the evening of his arrival, I pushed 
my way through this medley of incongruous 
baggage to present myself to the King, of whom 
I had caught but a passing glimpse on the Mar- 
seilles quays, M. Gautret, the colonial adminis- 
trator who had travelled with our guests, said 
to me : 
816 



THE KING OF CAMBODIA 

" His Majesty is at dinner, but wishes to see 
you. Come this way." 

Shall I ever forget that audience ? Sisowath 
sat at a large table, surrounded by his family, 
his ministers, his favourites and his dancing- 
girls, while, squatting in a corner on the floor, 
were half-a-dozen musicians — His Majesty's 
private band — scraping away like mad on frail- 
sounding instruments. The King was eating 
salt fish which had been prepared for him by 
his own cooks. He was the only one to use a 
knife and fork. The others did not care for such 
luxuries; at intervals, a waiter handed round 
a large gold bowl filled with rice, into which 
ministers, favourites and dancing-girls dipped 
their hands, subsequently transferring the con- 
tents to their mouths. 

When M. Gautret had mentioned my name and 
explained the nature of my functions, the King, 
who was gloating over his loathsome fish, looked 
up, gave me his hand and, with his everlasting 
noisy laugh, flung me a few vapid monosyllables : 
"Glad! . . . Friend! . . . Long live France ! " 
Our conversation went no further on that day. 
The next morning, we visited together the sights 
of Marseilles and its Colonial Exhibition. Siso- 
wath, though very loquacious, was not astonished 
at anything, or at least pretended not to be. His 
dancers and favourites, on the other hand, were 
astonished at everything. They pawed the red- 
silk chairs for ever so long before venturing to 
sit upon the extreme edge, so great was their 

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fear of spoiling them : most often, after a pre- 
liminary hesitation, they would end by settling 
down upon the floor, where they felt more at 
home. And yet they were not devoid of tact, 
as they showed when I took them, at the King's 
wish, to see the fine church of Notre-Dame-de-la- 
Garde, which, from the top of its rock, commands 
a view of the city, the surrounding country and 
the sea. They wanted to go up to the sanctuary 
and entered it with the same respectful demean- 
our which they would have displayed in the 
most sacred of their own pagodas. When we 
explained to them that the thousands of ex- 
votos which adorn the walls of the chapel 
represent so many tokens of pious gratitude, 
their eyes, like the King of Thule's, filled with 
tears and they suddenly prostrated themselves, 
just as they might have done before the images 
of their own Buddha. 

During this time, the King, who had fished 
out a pair of white gloves and a white tie and 
adorned his sampot with an emerald belt, stood 
smiling at the "Marseillaise," which was being 
performed in his honour. 

Until then, I had enjoyed but a foretaste of 
the life and manners of the Cambodian court. 
The stay which Sisowath and his suite were about 
to make in Paris was to enlighten me on this 
subject for good and all. 

After three days' driving through the streets 
of Marseilles, the royal caravan set out for the 
capital, where the French government had re- 
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THE KING OF CAMBODIA 

solved to give it an official reception and to 
entertain it at the expense of the nation. With 
this object in view, the government had hired 
a private house in the Avenue Malakoff and 
prudently furnished it from the national reposi- 
tory with chairs and tables " that need fear no 
damage." 

Meanwhile, the Colonial Office had appointed 
me superintendent-in-chief of this novel " palace " 
and I had to take up my abode there during 
the whole of our royal guest's stay. The result 
was that, during the three weeks which I spent 
amid these picturesque surroundings, I enjoyed 
all the attractions of the most curiously exotic 
life that could possibly be imagined. 

The bedroom allotted to me opened upon the 
passage containing the King's apartments; so 
that I may be said to have occupied a front seat 
at the permanent and delicious entertainment 
provided by the Cambodian court for the benefit 
of those admitted to its privacy. 

What struck me first of all was the indiscreet 
familiarity of His Majesty's family and favour- 
ites. Princes, ministers and favourites spent 
their lives in the passages and walked in and out 
of my room with an astonishing absence of con- 
straint and in the airiest of costumes. If I 
happened to be there, they paid no attention 
to my presence : they explored the room, poked 
about in the corners, tried the springs of my 
bed, asked me for cigarettes, examined my 
brushes and combs, smiled and went away. 

3i9 



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When I was out, they entered just the same, 
emptied my cigar- and cigarette-boxes, sat down 
on my carpet and exchanged remarks that may 
have been jocular for all I know : I never found 
out. 

Anxious to avoid any sort of friction, I made 
no complaint. I contented myself with locking 
up 'my personal belongings and replacing my 
boxes of havanas with boxes of penny cigars; 
but my plunderers held different views : the 
ladies, especially, who had learnt to distinguish 
between good cigars and common " Senateurs," 
expressed their rage and vexation with violent 
gestures and resolved thenceforth to give me the 
cold shoulder — which was more than I had 
hoped for. 

There remained another drawback to which 
I had, willy-nilly, to submit until the end. It 
consisted of Sisowath's unpleasant habit of walk- 
ing up and down the passages at night, talking 
and laughing with his suite, while his orchestra 
tinkled out the " national " airs to an accom- 
paniment of tambourines and cymbals. It was 
simply maddening ; and, when I tried to make a 
discreet protest, I was told that, as His Majesty 
took a siesta during the day, he had no need for 
sleep at night. The argument admitted of no 
reply; and I had to accept the inevitable. 

On the other hand, I enjoyed a few compen- 
sations. I was invited, from time to time, to 
assist at the King's toilet when he donned his 

gala clothes to go to an official dinner or a cere- 
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THE KING OF CAMBODIA 

mony of one kind or another. After he had 
finished his ablutions — for he was always very 
particular about his person — his wives pro- 
ceeded to dress him. They helped him into a 
gorgeous green and gold sampot and a brocaded 
tunic, and put round his throat a sort of necklace 
resembling the gorget of a coat of mail and made 
of dull gold set with precious stones, ending at 
the shoulders in two sheets of gold that stuck 
out on either side like wings. They next girt 
his waist, arms and ankles with a belt and brace- 
lets encrusted with exquisite gems. Lastly, they 
took away his rusty and antiquated old " topper " 
and gave him in exchange a wide Cambodian 
felt hat, surmounted by a kind of three-storied 
tower running into a point, adorned with gold 
chasings and literally paved with diamonds 
and emeralds. Thus attired, Sisowath looked 
very grand : he resembled the statue of a Hindoo 
god removed from its pagoda. 

Nevertheless, western civilization began stealth- 
ily to exert its formidable influence over his 
tastes, if not his habits. We had not been 
a week in Paris before our guest thought it 
better, on his afternoon excursions, to replace 
the sampot with the conventional European 
trousers and his out-of-date cut-away with a 
faultless frock-coat. But for his yellow com- 
plexion, his slanting eyes and his woolly hair, 
he would have looked a regular dandy ! 

Ever eager to appear good-natured and polite, 

he kissed the daughters of the hall-porter at the 

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Colonial Office each time he went to the Pavilion 
de Flore, and shook hands with the messengers 
at the Foreign Office and with all the salesmen 
at the Bon Marche, which he made a point of 
visiting. Again, when passing through the Place 
Victor-Hugo, he never failed to take off his hat 
with a great flourish to our national poet. Lastly, 
I had the greatest difficulty in keeping him from 
sending sacred offerings to the tomb of Napoleon 
I., " whom we hold in veneration in Cambodia," 
he explained to me through the interpreter. 
Hearing, on the other hand, that European 
sovereigns are accustomed to leave their cards 
on certain official personages, he asked me to 
order him a hundred, worded as follows : 



Preas Bat Somdach Preas Sisowath 
Chom Chakrepongs. 



322 



THE KING OF CAMBODIA 



Nevertheless, in spite of the ever-fresh surprises 
which Paris had in store for him and of their 
undoubted attraction for his mind, the King 
soon began to feel a certain lassitude : 

4 Paris," he said to me, " is a wonderful, but 
tiring city. The houses are too high and there 
are too many carriages. How is it that you still 
allow horse-carriages ? If I were the master 
here, I would abolish them and allow nothing 
but motors." 

When he had visited the public buildings and 
seen the sights, and been to Fontainebleau and 
Versailles and Compiegne, and had the mechanism 
of the phonographs and cinematographs ex- 
plained to him, he began to bore himself. He 
then thought of his dancing-girls, whom he had 
left behind at Marseilles, and sent for them to 
Paris, on the pretext of exhibiting them at a 
garden-party given by the President of the Re- 
public at the Elysee. One fine morning, they 
all landed at the Gare de Lyon, a little bewildered, 
a little flurried, in the charge of the grim Princess 
Soumphady, who was dressed in a violet sampot, 
with a stream of diamonds round her neck. 
They arrived looking like so many lost sheep, 
accompanied by their six readers, their eight 
singers, their four dressers, their two comedians 
and their six musicians. 

The dancers' advent created quite a sensation 
Y2 323 



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in the district of the Avenue Malakoff. They 
were quartered opposite the royal " palace," in 
a building at the back of a courtyard, and when, 
at last, good King Sisowath saw them from his 
balcony, a broad smile of happiness lit up his 
yellow face. 

They rehearsed their ballets every morning, in 
a large room that did duty as a theatre. I was 
allowed to look on, as a special favour, and I 
was thus able to watch pretty closely those 
curious and amazingly artistic little creatures 
and their dances. 

Their ballets always began with a musical 
prelude performed upon brass and bamboo in- 
struments. Then, while some of the women 
struck up a religious chant and others clapped 
their hands in. measured time, the dancers left 
the group one by one, shooting out and meeting 
in the ring; and a regular fanciful, childish 
drama was suggested by their movements, their 
gestures and their attitudes, which contrasted 
strangely with the sacerdotal repose of their 
features. They looked, at one time, like large, 
living flowers; at another, like automatic dolls. 

The dances provided an odd medley of Moorish 
and Spanish steps. Sometimes, the stomach 
would sway to and fro, as though one were watch- 
ing a dance of Egyptian almes; at other times, 
the legs quivered and the dancer stamped her 
feet, raised her arms, jerked her hips, as though 
she meant to give us some Andalusian jota or 
habanera. And nothing allowed the inner feelings 
324 



THE KING OF CAMBODIA 

of the soul to penetrate through those faces, 
which seemed inanimate beneath their fixed 
smiles ; yet what suggestive mimicry was there, 
what harmonious poses and what marvellous 
costumes ! 

The Cambodian ballet-girls, when dancing in 
public, wear clothes that are simply fairy-like. 
They have bodices of silk stitched with gold and 
adorned with precious stones. These bodices 
are very heavy and are fitted upon them and 
sewn before each performance, so that they form 
as it were a new skin and clearly reveal the 
undulations of the body. 

The dressers take two or three hours to clothe 
the dancers, after which they paint the girls' 
faces and deck them out with bracelets, neck- 
laces and rings of priceless value. Sometimes, 
also, the dancers' fingers are slipped into long, 
bent, golden claws, which describe harmonious 
curves in space. 

Lastly, the head-dress consists of either the 
traditional pnom — a sort of pointed hat, all of 
gold and fastened on by clutches that grip the 
head — or a wreath of enormous flowers, or else 
of a pale-tinted silk handkerchief rolled low over 
the temples. 

The dancers and their dances achieved, as may 
be imagined, no small success, first at the Elysee 
and afterwards in the Bois de Boulogne, where 
a gala performance was given, in the open-air 
theatre of the Pre Catelan, by the light of the 
electric lamps. Bet ween whiles, they took drives 

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through Paris, which gave rise to all sorts of 
astonished and enthusiastic manifestations on 
their part, much to the delight of their guides, 
for they had the mental attitude of little girls ; 
and, when, after a week, they had to go back 
to Marseilles, where they formed the principal 
attraction at the Colonial Exhibition, their despair 
was something immense. It was as much as 
we could do to console them by presenting them 
all with mechanical rabbits and unbreakable 
dolls. 

And the King, once more, was bored. He was 
so thoroughly bored that, a few days after the 
departure of his ballet-girls, he resolved to go 
and spend a couple of days at Nancy, in order 
to see a dozen or two young Cambodians who 
had been attending the local industrial school 
for the last twelvemonth. The organizing of 
this visit was very troublesome, for the King 
had acquired a taste for military display and 
insisted upon being received at Nancy with full 
honours, such as he had been used to in Paris. 
Worse still, the trip very nearly ended in dis- 
aster, entirely through Sisowath's own fault. 

The inhabitants of Nancy, amused and de- 
lighted by the show of Oriental luxury that met 
their eyes, gave the King an enthusiastic ovation 
far in excess of his expectations. His gratitude 
was such that, on the evening of his arrival, 
he took it into his head to manifest his delight 
by flinging handfuls of silver through the windows 

of the Prefecture to the crowd that stood cheering 
326 s 



THE KING OF CAMBODIA 

him on the Place Stanislas ! The reader can 
picture the effect of this beneficent shower. 
Suddenly, loud cries and shouts were heard 
and a regular battle was fought in front of the 
Prefecture, for one and all wished to profit by 
the royal largesse. 

I at once rushed up to the King and begged 
him to stop this dangerous game. But Sisowath, 
who was madly diverted by the sight, positively 
refused to yield to my entreaties. He even 
asked to have a thousand-franc note changed 
for gold. 

Seeing that persuasion was of no avail, I took 
a quick and bold resolve. I had him removed 
from the window by force, undeterred by the 
insults with which he overwhelmed me in the 
Cambodian tongue. 

But I had not yet come to the end of my 
emotions ; a serio-comic incident followed apace. 
Suddenly evading the watchfulness of my in- 
spectors, who dared not detain him like a com- 
mon malefactor, Sisowath escaped, darted down 
the stairs four steps at a time, opened a window 
on the ground-floor and, with hoarse cries, began 
to pitch into the square all the louis d'or which 
he had in his possession. The moment he 
heard us coming, quick as lightning he was off 
and flew to another window. For a quarter of 
an hour, a mad steeple-chase was kept up through 
all the rooms of the Prefecture, amid the roars 
of the excited crowd in the streets. 

Fortunately, the King soon grew tired and 



MY ROYAL CLIENTS 

accepted his defeat. As for me, I naturally 
looked upon my disgrace as assured. But Siso- 
wath, thank goodness, was not vindictive. The 
next morning, he gave me his hand, and, burst- 
ing into loud laughter, contented himself with 
saying : 

" Very funny ! " 



A week later he took ship at Marseilles, with 
his court, to return to Cambodia. When I said 
good-bye to him on the deck of the steamer, he 
appeared heart-broken at having to leave our 
country. Heart-broken, too, seemed the little 
dancing-girls squatting at the foot of the mast, 
with their mechanical rabbits and their unbreak- 
able dolls — the last keepsake to remind them 
of their stay in Paris — which they squeezed 
fondly in their arms. 

When, at length, the hour of parting had 
struck, good King Sisowath, greatly moved, 
called me to his side : 

" Here," he said, " Present . . . for you." 

And he handed me a parcel done up in a 
pink silk handkerchief. 

As soon as I was on shore, I hastened to open 
it : to my great confusion, it contained a splendid 
sampot made of fine cloth of gold. The King 
of Cambodia had presented me with his State 
breeches, which were all that remained to me 
of my last " client " and of my Oriental dreams ! 
328 " 



CHAPTER XII 

QUEEN VICTORIA 
1 

Had I listened to what a poet has so well 
named the instincts of the heart, I would have 
inscribed the name of Queen Victoria at the head 
of this book. Bonds of respectful attachment 
and fervent gratitude attach me to her for all 
time. She was gifted in the highest degree 
with both courage and delicacy. She was the 
personification of one of the most potent qualities 
of the English character : loyalty in friendship. 
Once she had bestowed her confidence upon any 
one, were he the humblest or the mightiest, she 
continued to show him that confidence, in all 
and every circumstance, so long as he remained 
worthy of it. 

This was well known ; and therefore the vener- 
able sovereign's esteem became a valuable talis- 
man for him who was honoured with it. I may 
say that, for over twenty years, it constituted 
my real recommendation to the sovereigns and 
princes to whose persons I was attached ; and that 
is why I determined to conclude this volume with 
my recollections of the lady who, to no small 

extent, furnished me with the opportunitv of 

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writing it, and who governs my reminiscences 
from the depths of an already distant past, even 
as her bowed and smiling image beams from its 
gilt frame upon the other portraits that surround 
me as I write. 

Too much, of course, has been written about 
Queen Victoria for me to aspire to set up as the 
historian of her reign and life. Other pens, 
endowed with greater authority than mine, have 
told us of the momentous influence which she 
wielded, for half a century, over the destinies of 
the nation of which she always remained the most 
vivid expression and, at the same time, the noblest 
and most respected symbol; they have told us 
how, little by little, her single efforts tended to 
develop into her universal fame. Lastly, her 
own correspondence, published by the pious 
thought of her son, the late King Edward, has 
revealed to us, in a striking fashion, the inmost 
recesses of her heart as a woman and a queen. 

My ambition, therefore, will be limited to re- 
calling the sovereign whom I knew in the decline 
of her life, the queen who was known only to the 
few privileged persons admitted to her family 
circle, the woman who, with so much simplicity, 
with so much candour and indulgent kindness, 
personified, in all the grace of her secret charm, 
the traditional type of " the dear old lady." 

She had made it her habit, as everybody knows, 
to spend a few weeks of each year in France. 
The state of her health was not, as I at first 
thought, the only reason that induced her to 
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QUEEN VICTORIA 

make this annual journey. She loved our country 
not as other sovereigns do, from politeness or 
because she found it easier there than elsewhere 
to rest from the fatigues of official life : she loved 
it with a profound and sincere affection, to which 
a curious sentimentality, a sort of mysterious 
superstition, contributed its share. Strange and 
inconsistent though it may seem, this sovereign, 
whose strict education, whose essentially Protes- 
tant attitude of mind, whose ideas of nationality 
ought rather to have set her against us, relished 
the Latin side of our character, delighted in our 
easily-aroused displays of enthusiasm, admired 
our artistic faculties and, above all, appreciated 
our climate, to which she attributed curative 
virtues far above the common. The moment she 
arrived among us, she considered herself at home. 
Her eyes beamed with pleasure, her face lit up 
with content ; and she thought more of the salute 
of a station-master who recognized her or of a 
nosegay presented to her by a peasant-woman 
than of the homage paid her by any of her fellow- 
sovereigns. 

The mere thought that political events might 
interfere with her annual holiday was enough 
to cause her acute distress. I remember, for 
instance, the time of the unfortunate Fashoda 
incident, which happened just at the moment 
when she was about to start for Nice. An ill- 
disposed section of the press had written to cry 
out against the journey; and the Queen caused 
her hesitation and anxiety to be brought to mv 

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knowledge. Realizing the great harm which her 
absence — necessarily involving the absence of a 
large number of her subjects — was likely to do to 
our Mediterranean coast, I instituted a summary 
enquiry into the feeling of the population, as a 
result of which I strongly advised Her Majesty 
to make no alteration in her plans. Fortunately, 
I was not alone in this opinion : I found a valuable 
ally in the person of the late Lord Salisbury, who 
was prime minister at the time. He never 
wearied of repeating: 

" It is more than ever essential that the Queen 
should go to France this year." 

She came. She was a little nervous at first, 
but was soon reassured at perceiving that the 
people showed her the same respect and the same 
deference as before. 

A few days later, when talking with the 
Empress Eugenie about the Anglo-French dispute, 
which had then reached its most acute phase, she 
said : 

" If a war were to break out between France 
and England, I would ask God in His goodness 
to let me die first ! " 

I am certain that these beautiful and touching 
words were the genuine expression of an absolute 
conviction. 

She thought of us again at the end, when, a few 
hours before expiring, in that faint gleam of hope 
which lights up so many death-beds, she ex- 
claimed : 

" Oh, if I were only at Nice, I should recover ! " 
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QUEEN VICTORIA 

By a diplomatic, but quite useless fiction, the 
Queen always travelled in France under the title 
of Countess of Balmoral. Of course, this incog- 
nito, to which she attached great importance, did 
not deceive a soul, inasmuch as her movements 
were not allowed to pass exactly unnoticed. The 
reader can judge for himself. As soon as her 
departure for the south was settled, the Foreign 
Office advised our Ministry for Foreign Affairs, 
which, in its turn, informed the minister of the 
interior, who at once wrote to tell me that I must 
hold myself in readiness to attend the august 
traveller. She used to arrive at Cherbourg in the 
evening, on board her yacht Victoria and Albert, 
and did not land until the next morning, when 
she took the train waiting for her on the quay. 
The royal train consisted of seven coaches, two 
of which were the Queen's private property, and 
was both imposing and magnificent. The Queen's 
saloon-carriage, padded throughout in blue silk, 
presented, in its somewhat antiquated splendour, 
the exact appearance of an old-fashioned apart- 
ment in a provincial town. Everything about it 
was heavy, large and comfortable. So that the 
Queen's sleep might not be disturbed, there were 
no brakes to the wheels; and the carriage was 
swung to perfection. Moreover, the train never 
travelled faster than thirty-five miles an hour by 
day or twenty-five miles at night. It also stopped 
for some time during meals and between eight 
and nine in the morning, to enable the Queen to 

dress in comfort. Lastlv, it was pulled up when- 

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ever Her Majesty desired to receive some person 
of distinction or when dispatches reached her 
from the government. I used to feel as though 
I were travelling in a steam bath-chair; and I 
must confess that, in this rolling palace, the 
journey never appeared to me either very long or 
very tiring. Besides, it had the advantage of 
enabling us to admire the landscape at our 
leisure. 

As soon as the Queen reached her destination, 
a serious responsibility devolved upon those who[ 
like myself, had it as their duty to protect the 
royal residence without making a great display 
of force, in fact almost without visible show. 
Never, indeed, was the police service around 
an illustrious personage organized with greater 
reserve and discretion. Never was monarch 
better guarded in his palace than was Queen 
Victoria in an hotel quite easily accessible to the 
public. In fact, one might have thought that 
no precautions whatever had been taken ; and yet 
the orders were explicit and it was really im- 
possible for any one to enter the space under my 
supervision without first stating his business. " 
Soldiers mounted guard, in smart sentry- 
boxes, at the entrance of the hotel. The guard 
turned out to salute the Queen twice a day only : 
when she started on her long daily drive and 
when she returned. It was also drawn up in 
force on the occasion of certain official receptions 
and on the arrival of other foreign sovereigns who 

came to call on their venerable cousin of England. 
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QUEEN VICTORIA 

An amusing mishap nearly occurred, one day, 
in this connection. I was going to my post in 
the afternoon and thought I observed an un- 
wonted animation around the royal hotel. I 
quickened my pace to discover the cause ; and my 
stupefaction was great when I saw the guard 
of honour standing under arms at the entrance. 

My functions enabled me to know, day by day, 
I might almost say, hour by hour, what was set 
down on the programme of the Queen's receptions. 
Now on that day there was nothing, to my 
knowledge, that seemed to warrant the calling 
out of the guard ; and I wondered what could have 
happened during my brief absence. 

I hurried up to the officer on duty : 

" What is the matter ? " I asked. " Why 
have you turned out ? Whom are you going to 
salute ? " 

" I really don't know, M. Paoli," said the 
officer, who, in his turn, was astonished at my 
surprise. " M. Dosse, the Queen's courier, sent 
down word to us. They are expecting a crowned 
head, they say." 

What could the mystery mean ? I at once 
sent for the Queen's courier : 

" Whom on earth are you expecting ? " I 
asked, pointing to the men drawn up in line. 

" Why, don't you know ? " he replied. 

" I do not." 

" Well, it's the Empress Eugenie ! " 

I gave a jump : 

" What ! " I exclaimed, in dismay. " You 

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want the soldiers of the republic to give the 
salute to the ex-Empress of the French ? " 

" I confess," said M. Dosse, " that I did not 
look at the matter from that point of view." 

" I dare say. . . . But, if you lost no time 
before, there is still less time to lose now. . . . 
Dismiss, dismiss as quick as you can ! " I cried 
to the officer. 

I was only just in time. The soldiers were 
not yet out of sight when the Empress arrived : 

" You seem very much excited, M. Paoli," 
she said to me, with a smile. 

I told her the reason. 

" Oh, how glad I am that you avoided that 
incident ! " she exclaimed. " The newspapers 
would have been sure to hold me responsible; 
and my position in France, which is already so 
delicate, would only have suffered in con- 
sequence." 

As for me, I am convinced that people would 
not have failed to see in this simple misunder- 
standing a political plot, an attempt to restore 
the imperial family, or goodness knows what ! 



The Queen's household, when she came to 
France, consisted almost invariably of the same 
persons. Their tact and amiability have left a 
lasting and charming impression upon people 
who, like myself, were called upon to see a great 
deal of them. Unquestionably, the first and 
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QUEEN VICTORIA 

most important of them all was General Sir Henry 
Ponsonby, who, for a very long period, filled the 
most arduous offices at the court and who occupied 
a special place in Her Majesty's confidence. At 
once active and intelligent, open and discreet, 
he combined the functions of keeper of the privy 
purse and private secretary to the Queen. When 
he died, the responsibilities of his post were 
considered so heavy that it was divided and the 
privy purse and private secretary were appointed 
separately. Lieutenant-colonel Sir Fleetwood 
Edwards was invested with the first office and 
Lieutenant-colonel Sir Arthur Bigge, now Lord 
Stamfordham, with the second. One of the two 
always accompanied the Queen to Nice and was 
seconded either by Colonel, now Sir Arthur 
Davidson, or by Lieutenant, now Lieutenant- 
colonel Sir Frederick Ponsonby, son of the 
general. Both these gentlemen were equerries to 
Her Majesty. Lieutenant-colonel Sir William 
Carington, on the other hand, fulfilled the func- 
tions of controller of the little court at Nice, while 
Sir James Reid, that delightful Scotsman, whom 
I have mentioned in the chapter on King Edward 
VII., occupied the position of private physician- 
in-ordinary to Her Majesty. 

Among the ladies of the bedchamber who 
succeeded one another in attendance upon the 
Queen were Lady Southampton, Lady Churchill, 
the Countess of Antrim and Countess Lytton; 
while Miss Harriet Phipps, the bedchamber- 
woman-in-ordinary, never left the sovereign. 

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In addition to these court dignitaries, a numer- 
ous staff of servants used to accompany the Queen 
on her journeys to the Riviera. It consisted of a 
first waiting- woman, assisted by six dressers; a 
French chef, M. Ferry, with three or four lieu- 
tenants and a whole regiment of scullions under 
his orders ; a coachman, an outrider and a dozen 
grooms and stablemen, for the Queen always took 
her horses abroad with her and never drove out 
except in her own carriage. 

The suite was completed by the small troop of 
Indian servants, who preferred to form a little 
set apart from the others. These impenetrable, 
impassive and supercilious persons were very fine- 
looking fellows, clad in big turbans and wonderful 
cashmere garments of dazzling hues. They acted 
as a sort of attentive and silent body-guard to the 
Queen and looked as though they had been struck 
dumb by the almost religious importance of their 
duties. They enjoyed a few privileges, such as 
that of practising all the rites of their creed with- 
out restrictions, were thoroughly accustomed to 
discipline and were faithful and devoted to 
their sovereign in life and death. The Queen 
also brought with her a Highland gillie, who 
wore the picturesque costume of his native 
land. 

AH these servants had a great deal to do, 

especially on the arrival and departure of the 

royal party, for the Queen always travelled with 

nearly all the furniture of her bedroom, including 

the bed and bedding, together with her own linen 
33S 



QUEEN VICTORIA 

and plate and all those charming and trifling 
knick-knacks which adorn English houses. 

Lastly, any residence occupied by the sovereign 
was always filled with magnificent flowers. 

The Queen, as everybody knows, preferred to 
stay at an hotel rather than a villa, for the simple 
reason that she required a large number of spacious 
rooms. In the course of the five visits which she 
paid to Nice, she occupied first the Grand Hotel 
at Cimiez and then the Excelsior Hotel Regina. 
The first was hired at 40,000 francs for six weeks, 
the second at 80,000 francs for two months. 

As may readily be imagined, a " customer " 
of this sort was an exceptional windfall for the 
district ; and accordingly everything was done to 
make her stay pleasant and to satisfy her least 
wishes. For instance, the local authorities did 
not hesitate to give instructions for important 
works to improve the roads of the country-side; 
and the landed proprietors hastened to offer the 
illustrious traveller the use of their gardens and 
even to knock a hole in their walls when these 
adjoined the grounds of the hotel, so that she 
might feel at home wherever she went. This 
charming illusion was all the more easy to realize 
inasmuch as she was surrounded by a part of her 
furniture from Osborne or Balmoral, from the 
handsome Venetian mirror that adorned her 
boudoir and the little rosewood writing-table, 
laden with photographs and papers, that occupied 
its usual place in her bedroom window, down to 
the mahogany bedstead, that old-fashioned, high, 
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narrow bedstead which had accompanied her 
on all her journeys during the past forty years. 

The days spent by the Queen in this familiar 
and sumptuous setting were regulated with a 
great amount of method; and, notwithstanding 
that this annual visit was looked upon as a period 
of holiday and rest, I felt as though I were spend- 
ing those few weeks in the heart of a curiously 
busy hive, so numerous and constant did every- 
body's occupations seem to be. 

The Queen usually rose at nine o'clock, pro- 
ceeded to dress and had her breakfast, the con- 
stituents of which varied every morning. She 
would take coffee, chocolate or tea, with which 
were served rolls, a dish of eggs, fried fish, grilled 
bacon and Cambridge sausages, things which she 
hardly touched. 

Next came the hour for correspondence. Her 

Majesty regularly received the Foreign Office 

messengers who brought the official documents 

for her signature and the ministerial reports. 

She carefully read through all the administrative 

papers and exchanged a considerable number of 

cipher telegrams with her government; and, 

as she liked answering by return all letters that 

required replies, her two secretaries were kept 

very busy. Add to this that she received daily 

an innumerable quantity of begging letters, which 

were handed to me in case they needed looking 

into. Most of these missives eventually found 

their way into the waste-paper basket. I have, 

however, kept a few that form a counterpart to 
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QUEEN VICTORIA 

those which I collected when I was with the Shah 
of Persia and which I mentioned in a previous 
chapter. They displayed the same methods, 
the same tricks, ingenious or ingenuous as the 
case might be, and especially an amazing amount 
of imagination. 

Some had their appeals written by children, 
hoping thereby to produce a more melting mood 
in the recipient; others employed threats or 
sarcasm. The latter affected the most complete 
confidence in the success of their enterprise, as 
for instance, an old man of eighty-two, who 
wrote : 

" How painful and repulsive it would be to 
me, who am so near the grave, to have to alter 
my high opinion of the royal magnanimity, 
generosity and benevolence ! " 

Others made a display of pessimism : 

" If Your Majesty does not lend an ear to my 
entreaty, there will be no resource left to me but 
to put an end to my life ! " 

I say nothing of the constant appeals for 
subscriptions to charitable institutions and to 
enterprises of the most diverse and sometimes 
fantastic kinds. Nevertheless, special mention 
must be made of the madmen. A certain Comte 
de C invited the Queen to order her govern- 
ment to replace him in possession of " his 
Egyptian crown." Another lunatic believed him- 
self simply to be the son of the Queen of England 

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and suddenly took it into his head to assert 
his rights, I am bound to say, in exceedingly 
respectful terms : 

" Madam and dear Mother, 

" I hear that you are in France at present 
and I therefore hasten to write and ask you to 
give a little thought to me, your son, whom you 
abandoned in India. I cannot go on living in 
Africa, where I suffer all sorts of wretchedness. 
Please send me some financial assistance, to enable 
me to live as I ought to live, that is to say, as a 
son of the Queen of England ought to live. 

" Hoping, dear Mother, that you will have the 
kindness to satisfy my request, I send you a 
thousand kisses. 

" Your son, who still loves you, 

" D ben A , 

" Oran (Algeria):' 

These few examples, which I could easily have 
multiplied, arc enough to give an idea of the 
importance, the diversity and the eccentricity of 
Her Majesty's " official " mail-bags during her 
visits to our country. There was no replying to 
all these letters : it was really impossible. I 
remember that, one day, one of the Queen's 
secretaries received the following letter from a 
dissatisfied correspondent : 

" My next-door neighbour, who is something 
of a scandal-monger, insists that Her Majesty 
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QUEEN VICTORIA 

Queen Victoria graciously awarded me a hand- 
some and generous grant and that you, sir, have 
pocketed the amount by inadvertence." 

We preferred, I confess, chaff and even insults 
to the despairing epistles which generally ended 
in a threat of suicide. This means of intimidation, 
however stale, impressed me sometimes, when I 
thought I recognized an accent of sincerity in 
the tone of the letter. I would send one of my 
inspectors to the address given, so that he might 
warn me if there were any danger of a catastrophe, 
and each time he came back and told me that he 
had found the would-be suicide full of the most 
excellent intentions towards life. 



But to return to the daily employment of Her 
Majesty's time. When the Queen had finished 
her morning's work, that is to say, at about eleven 
o'clock, she put on a silk cloak and a large garden- 
hat to take the place of the white-muslin cap 
which she wore indoors. Then, leaning on her 
stick and on the arm of one of her faithful Hindoos, 
she went down the steps and took her seat in the 
little carriage drawn by the famous grey donkey, 
called Jacquot. Jacquot played a part of no little 
importance at the English court. He had, in 
fact, been raised to the dignity of a favourite and 
filled his office with becoming modesty. In no 
way elated by his unexpected good-fortune, he 
punctiliously performed the duties of his post, 

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which consisted in taking the Queen through 
the gardens of the various residences occupied 
by Her Majesty. Docile and obedient to his 
royal mistress's slightest whim, he stopped, 
started, waited, as the Queen might wish, 
and never showed the least impatience when 
the royal children pulled his tail or sent their 
shrill cries down the long funnel of his ears. I 
myself felt a fond affection for Jacquot, no doubt 
because I knew him to be my fellow-countryman 
— he was a Frenchman — and also because of the 
picturesque story of his life. He might in fact 
have written his memoirs, like the immortal 
donkey in Mme. de Segur's book, and described 
how, one fine day, he was transferred from the 
barn of a poor farm in the Haute-Savoie to the 
royal mews at Buckingham Palace. 

It was at the time of the Queen's stay at Aix- 
les-Bains in 1892. She already found a great 
difficulty in walking and complained that she had 
no means of locomotion fit for easy and immediate 
use and requiring no great preparation. Well, 
one afternoon, as she was driving by the edge of 
the Lac du Bourget, she met a peasant jogging 
along in a small cart drawn by a donkey. The 
animal was still young, but so thin, so very thin, 
and so ill-groomed that he was very little to look 
at. The Queen stopped her carriage and beckoned 
to the fellow : 

" Would you care to sell me your donkey ? " 
she asked. 

Not knowing to whom he was speaking, the 
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QUEEN VICTORIA 

peasant replied, with the usual distrust which 
country-people entertain for those who come from 
the towns : 

" All depends." 

" How much did you pay for him ? " asked the 

Queen. 

" A hundred francs . . . and he was cheap at 

the price." 

" I'll give you two hundred. . . . Will you take 

it?" 

The peasant pretended to hesitate. I said, in 

my turn : 

" You can buy two donkeys with that." 
He at last made up his mind. The bargain was 
struck; and the donkey became the Queen's 
property and was duly washed, curry-combed, 
groomed and generally smartened up. Above 
all, he was better fed. Soon after, he was put to 
draw the Queen along the little roads and narrow 
walks which her carriage could not enter. 
Thenceforth, Jacquot, as he was christened, 
led an easy, gentle and agreeable life; for the 
Queen doted on animals and insisted that the 
greatest care should be taken of all the horses in 
her stables, without distinction. 

When the Queen was about to return to Savoy, 
in 1893, it was decided that Jacquot should be 
taken with her on the journey. On the day of his 
arrival at Aix, the rogue proved that he had a 
good memory. He broke loose from the waggon 
in which he was carried, sniffed the air of his 

native land with delight, took his bearings and 

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scampered away before any one could lay a hand 
upon him, making straight for the stable where 
he had been so well looked after in the previous 
year. 

The Queen, when she heard the story, laughed 
and said to me : 

" You will have to change that French maxim 
of yours which says, 4 As silly as a donkey ! ' " 

Jacquot, in fact, managed, before attaining 
middle age, to secure for himself a career which 
many a court functionary might have envied. 
Pampered, well-treated and respected, he retired 
into private life some years before the Queen's 
death and ended his days at Windsor, where he 
was treated as the equal of any thoroughbred. 

His place was taken by a pony and then by 
another donkey ; and the Queen, who always felt 
a grateful kindness for her first servant, perpetu- 
ated his memory by calling all his successors by 
the name of Jacquot. 

When the Queen returned to the hotel from her 
morning drive at half-past one, she went straight 
to the dining-room and did honour to the luncheon 
which to her represented the chief repast of the 
day. Then came the afternoon drive — this time 
in a landau — which generally lasted until night- 
fall. 

Dinner was seldom served before nine o'clock; 
but, at six o'clock, a sort of side-table was laid 
in the dining-room, in the Russian manner, with 
this difference, that, instead of zakusky, there was 
a plentiful supply of cold meats, such as joints 
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QUEEN VICTORIA 

of beef and hams, to say nothing of clear chicken- 
soup in a jellified form. The cooking, however, 
was invariably French, with the one exception 
of an excellent dish prepared by the Hindoo 
cook. 

The evening was finished around the lamp in 
the little royal drawing-room. The Queen adored 
music and loved to recall the distant period when, 
as a newly-married bride, she used to sing duets 
with the Prince Consort to Mendelssohn's ac- 
companiment. Her taste in musical matters 
included in an equal admiration the serene 
beauty of a melody by Gltick and the expressive 
sentimentality of an Italian romance; and she 
would ask Princess Henry of Battenberg, who is a 
skilled pianist, to sit down and give her a few 
selections from her favourite composers. 

Occasionally, the Queen sent for some great 
artist passing through Nice to be presented and 
invited him to play to her. Thus Puccini and 
Leoncavallo had the honour of performing their 
works before the august sovereign ; and our own 
poor Francois Thome also received a most flatter- 
ing welcome at her hands. Then, again, I have 
had the opportunity, in the royal boudoir, of 
applauding the famous choristers of the Russian 
Imperial Chapel, who came one year to give 
concerts at Nice. . . . Quintettes, quartettes, 
violinists, harpers, mandolinists, all alike, pro- 
vided they could give proof of real talent, were 
sure of finding an attentive and delighted ear at 
the Hotel Regina. 

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There were evening concerts; there were also 
morning serenades. We lived in an atmosphere 
of music ! The morning serenades were provided 
by the Neapolitan strollers, those wandering 
singers and guitar-players, who so picturesquely 
bring home to one the sun of Italy and who, in 
many cases, are gifted with admirable voices. 
The Queen liked their songs and was amused by 
their animated gestures. The whole brotherhood 
of strummers and scrapers and garden Carusos 
knew of her partiality and of the generous fee that 
awaited them ; and every morning, at the stroke 
of ten, some of them would be seen entering the 
grounds. They crept stealthily to a spot just under 
the royal balcony, where for an hour at a time, 
they spun out their Vorrei morir and their Funi- 
culi, funicula ! with all the fervour that consumes 
them, their eyes — such eyes ! — fixed upon the 
window behind which a curtain rustled and was 
sometimes drawn to allow a kindly and approving 
smile to fall upon the floods of melody and the 
vigorous chest-notes below. 

Still, despite the pleasure which she found in 
listening to the street-musicians, the Queen was 
passionately interested in the higher manifest- 
ations of the art and held our national celebri- 
ties in great esteem. M. Saint-Saens could, I 
think, tell of the flattering reception of which he 
was the object each time that he was invited to 
Windsor or London and of the delicate attentions 
which the Queen was pleased to lavish on him. 
I also remember the great impression made upon 
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QUEEN VICTORIA 

her by the voice and acting of Mme. Sara Bern- 
hardt when she saw the illustrious tragedian for 
the first time. It was at Nice, in the spring of 
1897. The Queen was at the Hotel Excelsior and 
sent to ask Mme. Bernhardt, who was giving a 
series of performances at Nice, to do her the 
pleasure of playing before her. The actress 
agreed to come and play in Andre Theuriet's 
Jean-Marie. The arrangements were made forth- 
with. A stage was improvised in the large draw- 
ing-room of the hotel by placing a dais at one end 
of the room; screens took the place of scenery; 
and the wonderful artist that evening achieved 
one of the most notable successes of her career, 
though she had an audience of but thirty or forty 
to applaud her. Immediately after the fall of the 
curtain, the Queen sent for Mme. Bernhardt, 
congratulated her warmly, fastened one of her 
bracelets round the artist's wrist and presented 
her with a photograph with a gracious inscription. 
In return, Sara Bernhardt wrote a line or two in 
the royal album ; and the Empress of India seemed 
to set the greatest store by the autograph of the 
queen of art. 

Outside these distractions, which were com- 
paratively rare, and when, for one reason or 
another, there was no music in the evening, the 
venerable Queen took refuge in reading. She 
would have a few pages read to her of a modern 
novel, or an article in some magazine of which 
the title or the signature had aroused her atten- 
tion. 

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It is an interesting fact that those around her 
had adopted the habit of carefully hiding from her 
anything which appeared in print of a nature 
likely to displease or sadden her. This explains 
her candid and imperturbable optimism : she 
believed in all sincerity in the goodness of the 
world m general; and the touching conspiracy, 
by removing from her mind all reasons to doubt 
that goodness and allowing her to look upon 
humanity -only under its most comforting aspect, 
ensured her tranquillity and serenity until her 
dying day. Those engaged in the conspiracy 
ended by themselves sharing that tranquillity 
and serenity, which were reflected in the journal 
in which she was accustomed every evening, when 
alone in her bedroom, to jot down the impres- 
sions and the most insignificant incidents of her 
happy and peaceful life. 



I have said that Queen Victoria's afternoons 
were mainly devoted to long drives in the country. 
These drives always caused me a certain anxiety. 
True, I had the greatest confidence in the good 
feeling of the inhabitants of Nice. On the other 
hand, I knew that a fluctuating and cosmopolitan 
population, such as that of this large town, could 
easily contain disorderly elements. Knowing 
beforehand the road which the royal carriage was 
to take, I used to send well-trained detectives 
to go on ahead. These generally adopted the 



QUEEN VICTORIA 

dress and manners of tourists ; and along the road 
itself I posted the men at my disposal, men who 
commonly served as rural policemen and who, 
unobserved by the public, informed me from 
place to place of anything that it was useful for 
me to know. Thanks to these simple precautions 
and without any further display of force, the 
Queen was able to go for innumerable drives 
during her five stays at Nice, not one of 
which was ever spoilt by the slightest .vexatious 
incident. 

The Queen soon came to know all the remark- 
able places in the neighbourhood. Special guide- 
books, illustrated with water-colour drawings, were 
prepared for her; and I would complete these 
with verbal explanations. My royal client was 
interested in the old legends which the popular 
imagination attached to the works of nature or 
the traces of the past. She also liked to go to 
the local festivals, particularly those which re- 
called the ancient customs of the country, such as 
the festin des reproches and the festin des cougour- 
dons. The festin des reproches is held at Cimiez, 
on the first Sunday in Lent. In the old days, 
young couples came to make mutual admissions 
to each other of faults committed during the 
excesses of the carnival. They confessed their 
misdeeds ingenuously, scolded each other for 
form's sake, attended a religious service; then 
they all spread over the market-square, shaded 
by magnificent olive-trees, over the sands and 
along the neighbouring paths, where the couples 

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became reconciled, kissed and broke the tra- 
ditional pan bagnat 1 together. 

The jestin des cougourdons also takes place at 
Cimiez, on the 25th of March, the feast of the 
Annunciation or Lady Day. It is the most 
important of all the fairs ; and it is attended by 
over twenty-five thousand visitors every year. 
There is one great sea of booths and rustic stalls. 
The Queen was very fond of this quaint exhibition. 
Almost every year, she went there with the prin- 
cesses to make purchases ; and you can imagine 
the stall-keepers' eagerness to attract her atten- 
tion to their wares, to obtain the favour of 
14 purveying " to Her Majesty. On her second 
visit, she was not a little surprised to find that 
a large number of gourds or cougourdes (whence 
the name of the fair) were adorned with her coat 
of arms or covered with inscriptions in her honour. 
My sleeve was pulled on the left ; a voice cried in 
my ear on the right : 

' Have this one, too, M. Paoli ! . . . Look, 
here's a fine one ! " 

And they filled my arms with gourds. The 
Queen laughed merrily to see me grappling with 
the salesmen and especially the saleswomen : 

" You will have to buy them all ! " she said. 

Queen Victoria achieved universal popularity 
through her kindness of heart, which sometimes 
suggested the most touching and delicate actions 
to her. For instance, she had made the acquaint- 
ance of a poor mother of a family, Mme. Bessick, 

1 Pain Unit, or blessed bread. — Translator's Note. 
352 



QUEEN VICTORIA 

in whom she took an interest because one day, 
when the Queen happened to drive by her cottage, 
this good woman, although she had only one lilac- 
bush in her garden, picked all its blossoms to 
present them to the sovereign. From that time 
onward, Mme. Bessick was a constant recipient of 
Queen Victoria's assistance. 

Some time after, when the Queen was driving 
out with Princess Christian of Schleswig-Holstein 
and Lady Antrim, she suddenly caught sight of a 
small knot of people proceeding along the road 
in front of us. She at once beckoned me to her 
and asked : 

" What is that over there, M. Paoli ? Is it a 
procession ? " 

" I rather think that it is a funeral, Ma'am,'' I 
replied. " But Your Majesty will be able to see 
in a moment." 

It was, as I expected, a funeral, but the poor- 
est, saddest, humblest funeral imaginable. Just 
a few persons walked behind the hearse, which 
was adorned with neither trappings nor wreaths. 
I enquired and found that it was Mme. Bessick 
being taken to her last resting-place. The Queen 
thereupon had a touching inspiration. Instead 
of trotting past the procession, she ordered 
her coachman to drive on slowly till he came up 
with it and to follow it at a foot's pace to the 
cemetery. 

Then, taking some large bunches of mimosa 

which a little girl had thrown into the hood of the 

carriage, she said to me : 

a a 353 



MY ROYAL CLIENTS 

" Please go and lay these flowers for me on the 
coffin of my old friend, who gave me so many 
in her time. I owe her that token of my 
regard." 

There was not, as one might be inclined to 
think, any calculation on her part, any aiming 
at popularity, in this constant solicitude for the 
poor, for the humble, for human wretchedness. 
She was naturally, spontaneously kind; and this 
sovereign, who knew how to sway the destinies 
of the greatest nation in the world with so firm 
and able a hand, revealed the heart of a good 
woman, in all its middle-class simplicity and all 
its touching candour, the moment she left her 
closet and descended from the mighty pedestal 
on which she cut so great a figure asa " states- 
man." She took the same serious interest in 
small things as though a grave and world-wide 
problem were at stake. 

I remember that, one afternoon, the Queen 
was returning from a long political conference 
with Lord Salisbury at the Villa de la Bastide, 
when we met on the road a nurse wheeling a 
pale and frail-looking baby. 

The Queen glanced at it, seemed distressed 
and, telling the coachman to stop, beckoned 
the frightened nurse to come to her : 

" Is the child ill ? " she asked. 

" He's anaemic, Madam : that is why we have 
come down here from Copenhagen, where the 
family live. The doctor ordered him to the 
south." 
854 



QUEEN VICTORIA 

" That's quite right ; but it's not enough. I 
will tell you what you ought to do for him." 

And the Queen carefully explained to the nurse 
the treatment best suited to the child. Among 
other things, she advised that he should be given 
ass's milk. The nurse promised to follow her 
prescriptions to the letter. 

A little while after, we met the nurse and the 
child again. The Queen stopped the carriage, took 
the baby in her arms, saw that he had become 
pink and lusty, paid the nurse a compliment and 
slipped a piece of gold into her hand. She seemed 
as delighted with the success of the cure as though 
the child had been her own. 

This maternal solicitude was also extended to 
animals, as we have already learnt from the happy 
lot of Jacquot and as was proved by the constant 
cares which she bestowed upon Spot, the fox- 
terrier, Roy, the collie, and Marco, the toy poodle. 
It was shown, moreover, in the instructions which 
the Queen gave to her outrider to arrange for 
relays of horses at regular distances, whenever the 
drive on which we were going was longer or 
rougher than usual. 

Her humanity towards dumb animals was so 
well known that every member of the royal suite 
set his wits to work to spare her feelings. The 
Scotch gillie, for instance, who always sat on the 
box beside the coachman, felt obliged, in order 
to please the Queen, to climb down from his seat 
whenever the horses were going up-hill and walk 
beside the carriage. Unfortunately, the High- 

AA2 355 



MY ROYAL CLIENTS 

lander was big and fat; and the steeds were 
mettlesome and in good condition. The poor 
fellow was in tortures on days when he had lunched 
at all well and when the ascent was long. After 
ten minutes' climbing, he would limp along, 
looking apoplectic in the face, lame and panting. 
In the end, I took pity on him and, one fine day, 
suggested that he should get into my carriage, 
which followed the Queen's. He at first made 
difficulties, alleging that " Her Majesty might 
notice " the subterfuge, but in reality I believe 
he demurred only with a view to saving his self- 
respect, for it did not take me long to overcome 
his scruples. He soon acquired the habit of 
transferring his person to my carriage when the 
horses embarked upon an ascent; and, as soon 
as the Queen's landau reached the top of the hill, 
he would run ahead briskly and resume his seat 
on the box. Did the Queen " notice it ? " She 
may have done so; but, in any case, as she was 
very good-natured, she pretended not to see. 



Her Majesty had a military cast of mind. She 
showed a kindly interest in our soldiers, especially 
in those who were posted at the entrance to the 
hotel and who formed her guard of honour. I 
had observed that she deigned to cast a friendly 
glance upon our little pioupious l each time she 

1 "Tommies," infantry of the line. — Translator's Note. 
356 



QUEEN VICTORIA 

passed in front of the company on guard at the 
hotel or before the sentries presenting arms ; and, 
one day, when it rained, she was much upset 
because the men were without shelter : 

" Why, it's simply inhuman, M. Paoli, to let 
those poor soldiers get so wet, when there's no 
need for it ! " 

" There has been no time," I explained, " to 
put up sentry-boxes for them." 

" They must have them as soon as possible ; 
and very comfortable ones. . . . Meanwhile, 
please let them go inside and send them some 
hot wine from me to drink." 

This was quite enough to ensure her popularity 
with our pioupious ! On the other hand, I 
confess that I used to do my best to give the Queen 
a high opinion of our army. Thus it would often 
happen, in the course of our drives, that a little 
troop sprang into view at a turn in the road, 
pretended to interrupt its drill and stood to 
attention and saluted as the royal carriage passed. 
At other times, we would come upon a regiment 
manoeuvring, in the heat of an assault : the 
artillery would thunder, the rifles crack and a 
squadron of cavalry dash across country, cheer- 
ing loudly as they passed our cavalcade, which 
had drawn up by the roadside. The good 
Queen would clap her hands delightedly and 
say : 

" How nice they are ! How smart they 
look ! " 

And thereupon one and all would burst into 

357 



MY ROYAL CLIENTS 

loud praises of our troops, while I secretly ap- 
plauded myself on having suggested, planned 
and, with the complicity of the military authori- 
ties, carefully contrived this chance encounter, 
which had done so much to natter my patriotic 
vanity ! 

Once I was convinced of the pleasure which the 
Queen derived from military displays, I became 
ambitious. I felt that any serious proof of Her 
Majesty's interest and affection for our army was 
likely to make an excellent impression not only 
in France, but abroad. I therefore suggested that 
she should hold a review, on the Promenade des 
Anglais, of the Nice garrison and of the Alpine 
battalions from the frontier. 

The proposal attracted her at once. Besides, 
she saw through the political importance which I 
attached to this manifestation — for she was very 
sharp-witted — and she showed me, with a charm- 
ing delicacy, that she entered into my views and 
that she meant to give it all the significance which 
I wished her to attribute to it : 

"I will not only go to the review," she said, "but 
I will lay aside my incognito for the occasion and 
ask the officers of my suite to accompany me in 
full-dress uniform." 

And so, a few days later, on a glorious morning, 

facing the blue sea, ten thousand men were seen 

marching past a landau in which sat a venerable 

lady, surrounded by a brilliant staff, smiling under 

her white sunshade and even betraying a little 
358 



QUEEN VICTORIA 

excitement. . . . When, at last, bringing up the 
rear in magnificent order, the smart battalions 
of Alpine chasseurs swung along in their turn, 
while their band struck up a telling march, an 
immense cheer rose from the crowd. 

The Queen expressed her surprise that the music 
should have aroused this exceptional enthusiasm. 

" That, Ma'am, is because they are playing the 
Alsace-Lorraine March," I explained. 

" Ah, just so. ... I understand," she replied, 
giving me a deep look from her eyes. 



The Queen had a very nice sense of etiquette 
and was quick to take alarm if others paid less 
attention to it than she did. 

I remember that she was quite upset in con- 
sequence of a little incident that occurred at the 
time of M. Felix Faure's visit to Nice in April 1898. 
It happened that, before the President had had 
time to call upon the Queen, his carriage passed 
the landau in which Queen Victoria was going for 
her daily drive. As he was to pay his official visit 
to the Queen that evening and as he was very 
punctilious in matters of etiquette, the President 
considered that he must content himself with 
bowing. Consequently, when his carriage caught 
up the royal landau, he made her one of those 

magnificent ceremonial bows, accompanied by a 
& 359 



MY ROYAL CLIENTS 

grand nourish of the hat, of which he alone 
possessed the secret, and drove on. Now in the 
meanwhile Her Majesty, who was told that the 
president had recognized her and bowed to her 
had at once ordered her coachman to stop, feeling 
certain that M. Fanre would turn back to speak to 
her. I hoped that he would turn back ; but, with 
his usual correctness of conduct, he did not; and 
his carriage soon disappeared in a cloud of dust 

„™ 7 a ? n ° P° int in siting any longer; and 
we started off again, feeling a little put out. 

When we entered the hotel, the Queen asked 
me, with a shade of annoyance in her voice • 
^< Why did not the President stop, as I 

" Because he certainly did not perceive that 
Your Majesty was good enough to expect him to," 
I replied. ' 

"I call it rather strange," she added. 

I hastened, as the reader can imagine, to inform 
M. Felix Faure of the incident, so that he was able 
to make his excuses for this involuntary mis- 
understanding; and I need not say that "every- 
thing was arranged for the best," as in M. Alfred 
Lapus comedies. 

For the rest, of all the French presidents whom 
she had occasion to meet, M. Felix Faure was 
undoubtedly the one who made the most favour- 
able impression upon her. She liked his showv 
manner, his wish to please and his obliging 
nature; m fact, she was always greatly touched 



QUEEN VICTORIA 

by the least attention of which she was the object, 
being herself very attentive to everybody who had 
access to her. Thus, in addition to the gifts in 
money which she distributed with a generous 
hand, she never failed, on leaving Nice, to present 
" souvenirs " to all the people with whom she 
had come more or less directly into contact. 
With this object, she always brought an enormous 
supply of trinkets with her on her trips to France. 
The trunk containing the presents in the royal 
luggage held enough to stock a jeweller's shop, 
comprising as it did watches, chains, pins, brace- 
lets, rings, pocket-books, framed photographs and 
inkstands without number. Her Majesty would 
delve into it at every moment to reward the zeal 
of the officials, the police, the railway-people and 
so on. At the end of her stay, gifts were distri- 
buted to over a hundred persons. From the 
prefect's wife to the gendarme, each received his 
little leather case ; and, wonderful to relate, there 
was never a blunder committed : no one ever 
received the same present twice. The Queen 
remembered exactly what she had given the year 
before and kept her " gift-book " as methodically 
as a tradesman keeps his ledger. If the station- 
master had a pocket-book one year, he had a 
cigarette-holder the next ; and each of these was 
carefully entered on the Queen's list. 

But there is one thing which I shall never weary 
of repeating, because I was one of the few wit- 
nesses of it and one of the privileged accomplices : 

361 



MY ROYAL CLIENTS 

the Queen's great heart must be measured and 
appreciated not so much by her manifest bounties 
as by those presents and acts of kindness which 
were deliberately kept secret. I had constantly 
to put her on her guard against the vampires who, 
under pretence of poverty, made appeals to her 
open-handedness. 

" Here," she would say to me, in a low voice, 
" here is a trifle which I want you to take to 

M. X , or Mme. Z ; but don't say that 

it comes from me." 

And often she would slip as much as a hundred, 
or a thousand, or fifteen hundred francs into my 
hand. 

When I knew that the person to benefit by one 
of these liberal acts of charity was nothing more 
than a common blackmailer, who was trying to 
move the Queen to pity, I at once told her so, but 
never succeeded in convincing her. 

" Yes, Paoli," she replied, " I know that I am 
sometimes imposed upon, but I would rather make 
a mistake in giving too often than in not giving 
often enough. Besides, who knows ? Perhaps 
behind that dishonest beggar there is a woman 
or a child who will benefit indirectly by my 
alms." 

I only once saw her protest — and that very 
mildly — against the abuse of her generous com- 
passion. There was a worthy legless beggar, a 
jovial, talkative fellow, who managed to attract 
her attention by posting himself on her road in his 
362 



QUEEN VICTORIA 

little primitive vehicle drawn by two big dogs. 
The Queen gave him ten francs each time; and, 
every year, she sent him fifty francs on the day 
before her departure. The old beggar, who was 
a native of Marseilles, ended by looking upon 
himself as forming part of the English court. 
He spoke of " Our Majesty " and learnt to jabber 
a few words of English. At last, one year, he 
had the impertinence to paint, in red letters, on 
one side of his go-cart, the official words, " By 
special appointment to Her Majesty." 

When the Queen heard of this, she considered 
that the cripple had gone too far and asked me to 
tell him so; but she continued his pension never- 
theless. 

And thus, every day, at every turn, a thousand 
minor circumstances proved the infinite kindness 
of the old Queen's heart and strengthened the 
links that bound her to our people. I did my 
best to encourage this sentimental reconciliation, 
because I considered that my country was bound 
to benefit by it and because I was already 
a convinced adherent of the entente cordiale, 
although, at that time, no one had yet dreamt 
of it ! 

The Queen, on her side, appreciated my efforts 
and showed me the most touching gratitude. 
For instance, I was the first Frenchman to receive 
the Victorian Order, which she herself conferred 
upon me at Nice in the year 1896, on the day after 
that on which she signed the decree instituting 

363 



MY ROYAL CLIENTS 

the order ; and, again, I was invited to attend the 
Jubilee celebrations in 1897 as her guest. ... I 
was, in fact, in her eyes, not only the confidant 
of her generous thoughts and lesser cares and the 
guardian of her peace and tranquillity: I was also 
and above all things the irremovable functionary 
whom she found faithfully at his post, each time 
that she came to France. Presidents of the 
republic followed one upon the other, ministries 
rose and fell, prefects and generals changed. I 
alone did not stir, I was always there, giving the 
illusion of stability in our country where " all is 
fleeting, all is brittle, all is wearisome." 

When I heard the news of Queen Victoria's 
death, it was to me as though I had lost one of 
my own family, it seemed as though a chapter — 
and the happiest chapter ! — of my life and my 
career had been brought to a sudden conclusion. 

I cannot better express the sentiment which 
I felt for the revered sovereign and that which she 
deigned to show to me than by printing the tele- 
gram which I received, on the day after the fatal 
ending, from her secretary, Sir Arthur Bigge, in 
the name of the royal family : 

" Osborne, 24 January 1901, 4.15 p.m. 

" Your sad and faithful sympathy touches us 
deeply amid our cruel loss. Are most grateful 
for your touching condolences. We shall never 
forget your loyal and invaluable services to our 
364 



v 



rD-1 81 



QUEEN VICTORIA 

august sovereign, who always held you in high 
esteem and great affection. 

" Arthur Bigge." 

And I think I am safe in saying that I am not 
the only Frenchman who has piously preserved 
the cult of that great figure throughout the 
intervening years. 



365 



Richard Clay & Sons, Limited, 
brunswick street, stamford street, s.e., 
and bungay, suffolk 



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